Hybrid Theory
by Hitsugi Zirkus
Summary: It wasn't completely unheard of to mix with one different from you but to Zexion it was impossible to get anywhere NEAR this guy! I mean, a jock and a sociopath? Yeah, just two opposite species who were never meant to interact. Zemyx FINALLY COMPLETE!
1. Fact: No One Quoted, 'Life Is Fair'

**A/N: **Those of you who are reading my other story, _I'm Not Falling_...probably wonder what the hell I'm doing updating/creating another story. ;.; But tis not my fault! The voice....the voice in my head commands me! PLZ allow me to do as it says!!! ;;;;.;;;;

I get an idea for a story, I type it. I can't help it - it's how i operate. i think up a new story at least every two weeks. But, I can only update so much, so I'm forced alot to shut down my imagination. But I can't do it anymore -yawns- My brain's tired from the fight....

**Disclaimer: **I own neither Demyx nor Zexion nor Kingdom Hearts BUT! I **_DO _**own the Moogle (y'know, that one moogle you meet in the game of kingdom hearts 2? dont confuse him with _that_ moogle, cuz I own _this _one. yes, him. Unmistakeable, isnt he? x3 ....No, i lie. I dont even own _him_ -.- -cries-)

**_Fact: No One Quoted "Life Is Fair"_**

There's not one thing in the world that can't be explained. This is Zexion Anderson's one philosophy of life. No, don't even start with all your miracles and your religion because that's all _faith_. Faith is a feeling - a gut feeling that something is true. No proof, no pictures, no witnesses, no _fact_.

Ah, now _there_ was something to believe in. Facts. Showing that something in life was true, was believable and that you could, indeed, take a fact's word for it. A fact didn't lie. A fact was never betraying. A fact....A fact was comfortable.

Sitting by himself in a corner table as usual, Zexion huddled his knees close to his chest, an open book before him and his untouched tray next to him. Around him, teenagers buzzed with the increasingly annoying first-day-of-school fever. Girls giggled, gossiped and exclaimed once they saw they were indeed reunited after the 'long' vacation of, what, _hours_? But it was a ritual all schools participated in, and Twilight High was no different.

At first, the culture of discrimitive high schools seemed to dwindle away, but Zexion was far too observant to know that that was false. There closest to the lunch line were the 'Left Overs', students who didn't belong anywhere in particular so were forced to band in a tight knit to make it appear that, yes, they had a place - though it was to be out of everyone else's way. Zexion knew them to be leaning on what cheerleaders classified as 'wanna-be's'.

Right in front of the cafeteria doors - the closest exit - sat the brace-faced, glasses occupant 'Nerds'. They were closer to the doors in order to avoid hussle, quickly finish a, to their opinion, time-consuming lunch, and then speed off to class for unneeded extra credit or something to that nature.

Across from them on the other side of the room the goths, metal-heads and the like dominated, ranging from quietly picking at their food to performing need-to-be-practiced-more air guitars. Ties were once again discarded, shredded or studded - all school offenses - and hair dyed - another demerit.

And, of course, in the pit of the cafeteria, center tables of everyone else, sat the jocks and their ever demanding cheerleader girlfriends. And there they were, eating, joking, and bragging as if everyone else wasn't gazing upon them in admiration and envy. The cheerleaders kept up their never-ending taunts and seductive teases that seemed to always run in their genetic code, settling themselves on jocks' laps and leaning into them so close that the guys could feel those squishy and somehow alluring pieces of flesh that made up the cheerleader's chest.

But, yes, the more dominant species aside...

There were also those who didn't necessarily care, like Zexion. Yes, few and far between, but the slate-haired teen was positive some form of speciation would occur and perhaps the other high-schoolers would follow his example of straying from primitive lifestyles. He wasn't necessarily sure when he'd find any new advantages to support this hypothesis, but until then, he was content in staying behind a book.

"Corner table _again_, Zexion?"

Aquamarine eyes flitted upward to meet baby blue. Forming what one could identify as a half-smile, the singled out teen replied, "Once a loner, the way it goes, I believe. And I thought I wouldn't be seeing you for another few days, Lexaeus."

The auburn-haired boy, Lexaeus, sat down next to Zexion, lunch tray in hand. "Parents decided to bring me back early." Lexaeus was tall and broad, often being mistaken to be older than the eighteen year old he actually was, the standard THS uniform of a white shirt, black pants and tie looking ridiculous on him.

"Finished their labs in Hollow Bastion, did they?" the other asked knowingly. Lexaeus' parents were professors in a university, but always traveling as lab assistants for their boss Ansem Wise.

Nodding silently, Lexaeus returned to nit-picking his food, probably trying just as hard as Zexion to ignore the fuss and bustle surrounding them. Zexion, figuring he wasn't going to get much reading done now, decided to start eating the seemingly less-than-edible school food.

"How'd the summer schooling go?"

It was never a casual conversation - always some sort of ice breaker as if the two were strangers. Even among a so called 'friend' Zexion knew he gave off that 'antisocial' aura that followed him everywhere.

Setting down a soggy-looking sandwich, Zexion replied, "Productive actually, although the numbers of failed students was...eye-opening. However," taking a glance over at the popular center of the so called 'cafeteria universe', he said, "However the actual persons attending you'd believe. And honestly, I'm positive no one understood their required subjects even after the hours of tutoring."

"The regulars, huh?" Lexaeus inquired, too knowing of Zexion's summer job experiance. "At least summer school stopped in July."

"And my salvation had arrived," the slate-haired boy agreed. Seeing as the rest of the period would be pretty much silent - now that they 'talked' about their vacations and all - Zexion thought to hell with it and picked up his book to resume reading. Lexaeus didn't protest but Zexion could've sworn he opened his mouth, about to say something, but closed it.

**_.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:_**

"'Peer tutoring'?" Zexion read the file he was handed aloud. A thin eyebrow arched in disbelief and with the one visible eye he had, stared down his counselor in question.

Sighing, Miss Lockhart leaned back in her seat, nodding as if that would answer all the questions in the world. The still inquiring look about Zexion's eye, she said, "Well, I hear you did an excellent job in the teaching field during summer school. The staff has been short recently and we'd really appreciate your help, Mr. Anderson."

"You really have no one else?" Zexion asked in what could've been a desperate tone, but he never highly expressed himself in ways as obvious as voice. "Listen, I wasn't the only one in attending. There had been Selphie, Fran, even-"

"Yes, yes, but you're the only good pair of hands I have!" Miss Lockhart exclaimed in almost a pouting manner. Gesturing to the paper, she added, "The program is only for a semester-"

"'_Semester_'?" Zexion repeated. He hadn't read that part yet! What else is binding him to this contract to which he hasn't even _signed, _much less glanced over!

"A semester, yes. But I'll make it as painless as possible-"

_That remains to be an opinion_, Zexion thinks, the tone in his mind as flat and disbelieved as his actual voice.

"-Just look at the guy I have picked out for you. It's only one person and they'll be no shifts - you two will stick together like glue for five months!" she concludes happily, and Zexion wasn't sure if she purposefully added the FIVE MONTHS part to torture him or to inform him. Or to inform him in a most torturing manner.

Crossing his arms, Zexion examined the paper up and down, looking for flaws, a loop hole - well, I guess he could always say 'no'...

"He's also a senior like you, y'know. I looked over both your schedules and it looks like you're both sharing 1st period creative writing, so you probably already know him," Miss Lockhart continued irrelevently. Seeing the unamused expression upon Zexion's normal apathetic face, she said, "Please, Mr. Anderson? Just do me this one favor; in the past three years you've been here, I've asked nothing of you. It's only a few weeks so I'm positive you'll get to be close friends in no time."

In the mean time, inside Zexion's head, he took all the appropriate mental notes to lead him to the conclusion this was a set-up into the worst things he could imagine.

The paper had a list of bullets to show the key points of this peer tutoring. And none of them Zexion liked - it all mostly pointed to socializing and actually conversing with someone he wasn't even aware existed. Summer school, now that had been different - he had needed extra money at the time and teaching, educating, _knowing_ - that was all things he excelled at. But this...could be a choice. He didn't have to do this and the tutoring was twice as long a time period as the summer courses!

Zexion let his gaze fall to the name printed neatly on the bottom with Miss Lockhart's handwriting, _Demyx Watera_.

Dragged back into a horrid reality, Zexion nearly stumbled with his sentence there was so much disbelief in his tone, "....Miss Lockhart, am I right in restating that you've assigned me to Demyx Watera?"

"-and then there's the... Huh? Oh, yes, that's your student in need."

"He's...captain of the swim team..." Zexion initially didn't think to let the statement wander, but he then realized he didn't know what to say after that.

"Uh, yeah..." Miss Lockhart said slowly, giving the slate-haired boy an 'are-you-okay...?' look. "Coach Highwind wants to see improvement in his chemistry, calculus and english."

Zexion nearly blanched in the appall of it all. "Three subjects? How is it I didn't see him in summer school?"

"He was enrolled. Didn't help much; he barely passed eleventh grade."

Beyond help. That's what this boy was: beyond help. And Zexion didn't know where to start if he was ever to tutor Demyx. Let's be honest now - if the guy barely made it to senior year, how could Zexion ever hope to get his attention long enough for him to actually do his job - the guy would probably go on and on about breast-strokes, laps or whatever else swimmers conversed themselves with. Demyx was just an entire species away from him! Was a challenge always welcomed? Maybe Demyx wasn't really like that, but...

Setting the paper face-down on the counselor's desk, Zexion flipped his hair back coolly and said bluntly, "I think I'll pass."

**_.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:_**

**Xelruna: **Okie-dokies, then. My imagination is satisfied! ....For the moment, but anyway, I'm still pretty content right now. It is short, but it's sorta an intro-ish thing. I'm not all too sure how this will all turn out. Well, I DO, but I don't know how to fill the gaps in between my cob-webbed mind. XXD

Oh! BTW, this is sorta a story branched off of another of mine called Such A Pretty Face. You don't need to read it to understand the story, but I'm just saying they bump into one another from time to time. xp

Peace out!


	2. Fact: People Go Against Their Will

**A/N: w00t! **And we reach chapter two! It's about two hundred words longer than the previous chapter, so I hope you all like that! Srry for the belated-ness but I have summer school to attend (stupid BCIS...stupid, stupid, stupid...). Good news is my course I'm taking is computer class! And if I play my cards swiftly and keep up a poker face, I could get away with writing some stuff, mwahahaa.

But yea, I wrote this in class. Srry if it's choppy! -smacks face-

Enjoy.

_**Fact: People Go Against Their Will**_

Somehow, Zexion knew that Demyx Watera's name was familiar. It wasn't the mere fact that many giddy high school girls giggled their crushes to one another about him. It wasn't because he was praised in the morning announcements to have come first in some swim competition. No, it was as if he'd heard the name somewhere Zexion normally wouldn't _visualize_ the swimmer.

But…where, exactly?

"Zexion Anderson," called out his first period Creative Writing teacher.

Barely looking up from the notebook he was staring blankly at, the teen called back, "Present."

It was their first assignment that stumped and annoyed him: a routine "get-to-know-you" task for the second day of school. For the teachers, it'd be their first time they'd get to learn about their new students (not that they cared nor remembered). But for students such as Zexion, this would be border lining the thousandth time he'd have to write down his weary autobiography.

A new senior and still doing the same first-grade work. If there was any justice in the world (which Zexion doubted), he'd at least be saved from presentation.

Finally starting to commit and write something, Zexion's ears perked up at the name the roll call had said.

"Demyx Watera."

Huh…what? No. No way. No way in-

"Ah, present!" came the chipper reply, and, _right behind_ him, at that!

Okay, scratch that. Yes. Yes way.

Zexion found himself bending over his paper a little more, as if what he was writing was a huge secret – which it wasn't. But, back to the problem at hand…: When had this happened? No – _how_ could it happen?! Demyx Watera – hot, popular jock _Demyx Watera_ in his class? This could _not_ happen – this was _his_, Zexion's, academic territory. No place for a thick-headed simpleton who probably didn't even know what a _sonnet_ was.

Then it hit him – he _had_ been aware of this. If memory had served a little better earlier, he would've remembered Miss Lockhart had informed him of this vital, life-altering information yesterday.

The teen let out a breath, agitated more on top of the assignment. Was this coincidence or sheer bad luck that the swimmer should be here when it was suggested only yesterday that he should tutor the boy? Well, either way, Zexion doubted his mood was going to improve much…

_Tap_. What the hell? Had someone just…_touched_ him?

_Tap, tap_, more fervently this time, along with a stage-whisper, "Hey!"

Zexion froze, and then very slowly and reluctantly turned around. Bright, wide eyes twinkled in greeting, along with a killer-hot smile; a basic trademark of a flirting jock, the slate-haired teen had noted many times. Though…why was _he_ giving _Zexion_ that look…?

"Yes?" he replied coolly, hoping the tone would be enough to get the blonde off of his back.

Undaunted, the other teen extended a hand. "Yo! I don't think you remember me that much, since you're sorta giving me this 'what-the-fuck-do-ya-want?' look." He chuckled awkwardly, hand hovering dubiously next to Zexion. "Er…Anyway, I went to summer school and I saw you there."

A thick pause, and seeing the other wasn't going to say anything, Zexion spoke slowly and cautiously, "Yes. I was working there as an extra tutor." More words than he had wanted to speak, but whatever it took… And why the hell did he keep _staring_ at him like that? What was it Demyx wanted him to say?

"Uh… I'm Demyx!" the blonde declared out of nowhere.

Raising an incredulous brow, the teen replied curtly, "Zexion-"

"Oh, Anderson! Yeah, I know!" Demyx interrupted, roughly grabbing a hold of Zexion's idle hand and shaking it, seemingly proud of himself that he knew this. Then, realizing how suspicious it was to know the last name of the person you just introduced yourself to, his face reddened. "I-I heard the roll call before you jump to any conclusions," he covered quickly.

_A bit defensively, too_, added the slate-haired teen, as he took back his hand. He nodded tersely, about to turn around when the swimmer stopped him.

"Hold on, I'm not done talking to you!" he protested, like a child who wanted attention.

Flatly, Zexion informed, "You do realize we've a task to accomplish?"

"It's the second day of school, so I'm already late in having a teacher all on me," Demyx explained humorously. Then, smiling that killer smile, he asked, "So, _Zexion_, did you do anything eventful for the summer besides babysit flunkeys like me?"

Zexion found himself frowning at this, but answered truthfully, "Nothing worth noting."

"A man of few words," Demyx commented with an amused chuckle. "I never pegged you for a chatter-box, anyway."

"What do you see me as?" Zexion asked through narrowed eyes, appalled that the blonde would be able to conclude anything about him – unless…it was _that_ obvious he was a sociopath? He gazed at the other inquiringly.

Demyx smirked and put his hands together; giving the appearance he was plotting something. "What do you see me as?" he returned.

"Well, as of now, a narcissist."

Demyx frowned, seemingly not expecting this. "You think I'm full of myself because I bounced the question back at you?" he questioned with a raised brow.

"Oh, plaudits for the narcissist; it appears he knows a thing or two," Zexion retorted, hoping his crass behavior would ward the blonde off.

It didn't. Instead, he laughed – not in a, "oh, you're a loser" way, but a way that indicated he laughed _with_, not at, Zexion often – like they were _close_. Zexion blinked, wondering why he never spent as much time listening to Demyx's laugh as he did with analyzing the crude behaviors of everyone else in the school.

"Ha-ha, you have an odd way of insulting someone," Demyx said with a smile. He had a unique smile, one that…despite whatever internal conflicts the slate-haired teen might've had… It made him want to smile back.

Literally shaking himself out of these thoughts, Zexion nodded to Demyx once again, hesitated, then turned around.

He wasn't particularly sure whether or not he was disappointed when the swimmer didn't talk to him again.

**_.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:_**

…Or maybe it was regret and not disappointment that was making him do this. No, that wouldn't be probable, either – not with Zexion's personality, anyway.

It was lunch period and somehow, the idea of having rejected the suggestion for tutoring Demyx haunted his thoughts, and he began to get antsy. At the end of fourth period, Zexion, finding no other solution, went to the Community A office. He would've dashed if it wouldn't be so out of character, so he took his time, walking with his binder hugged to his chest – maybe with the leisurely pace, he'd be able to think up another solution for this mess.

_Talking to me as if we've known each other all our lives_, he thought with an edge of revolt. It wasn't like Zexion to get close to _anyone_ – he relatively ignored his younger sister and spoke only to his parents when necessary. Lexaeus was an exception, if you wanted to look at it that way; though Zexion knew he gave the auburn as much attention as he gave his parents – the teen only talked to him if Lexaeus brought up a subject or question.

If Zexion believed in ghosts, this was the part where he guessed he was being possessed by one and it was making him do all the things the real Zexion would never do. Doing all this just because he regretted acting the way he did towards the blonde…? He had wanted Demyx _away_ from him, so his actions were fully justified.

So was it eating away at his mind? Suddenly, the image of Demyx smiling and laughing from before flashed in his memory. Zexion slowed his pace even more, gradually coming to a stop in the middle of a deserted hallway.

_Am I somehow interested in learning more about him?_ Zexion wondered, down casting his gaze. Then registering what it was that he thought quickly shook his head. No, it couldn't be anything like that. The only thing that interested the teen was facts - facts of life and nature and the way of things. Things that were essential to life and essential to knowing. Knowing what was coming and why it was occurring. Facts didn't lie – information was vital to know how to grab life by the horns.

Gathering information… Hmm…

Without even realizing it, Zexion had started walking again and towards the Community A office – and before he knew it, his body had taken over his mind and he opened the door, entering Miss Lockhart's office.

She looked up from her computer monitor, hazel eyes widening when she saw who it was. "Oh, Zexi- um, _Mr. Anderson,_" she corrected, pushing away from her desk to look him over. "What brings you here? I thought you had first lunch. And do you even have a pass to be in he-? …What did you say?"

Zexion, head down, closed his eyes in frustration and let out a deep, audible breath through his nose. He set his binder on the brunette woman's desk and then with his now free hands gripped the edges of it in agitation. Licking his suddenly dry lips, he muttered again, "I'll take the job."

Miss Lockhart blinked and gazed at the teen dubiously. "'The job'?" she repeated, as if this information was new to her. "The…? Oh! The tutoring, you mean?"

"Yes, I'll...I'll do it."

"Hmm?" The teacher tilted her head to the side, pink lips pursed. "What's with the change of heart? I could've sworn the assignment absolutely repelled you."

"Don't exaggerate," Zexion snapped lightly – knowing it wasn't the _assignment_ that repelled him. It had been the person he'd been assigned _to_, though now… "I wonder if it's still alright that I take you up…in tutoring Demyx Watera."

"You found him in your first period, didn't you?" Miss Lockhart asked in a voice too smug and sugary-sweet. "Did you guys talk or something?"

"With all due respect, Miss Lockhart, I believe you were quite short on volunteers," Zexion pointed out brazenly. "Interrogating me about my motives makes my desire decrease, just so you know. And stop pouting; it's unbecoming of an adult woman!"

Her bottom lip was indeed protruded but stayed its place even at the student's exclaim. "But you're yelling at me…" she whined.

"Like I said, unbecoming," the slate-haired teen reinstated flatly.

"Oh, you're no fun to tease – you're like a rock that won't budge! Okay, fine," she said with a resigned sigh and stood up. "Wait here, I'll go get the paper."

"Thank you," Zexion said, relieved the immature, and irritating, conversation was over.

She came back only a short time later with the same piece of paper from yesterday in her hand. "Here it is," she declared, as if the sheet contained everyone's fate – though it was only Zexion's encased within it. Smiling happily, she set it on top of his binder. Putting a pen on top of that, she said, "Now all you have to do is sign it and we can begin the tutoring next Monday."

"So soon?" Zexion asked, suddenly worried if he was making the right decision. But once again, his body didn't care and acted of its own accord, taking hold of the pen and setting the tip of it where his signature was to be.

Miss Lockhart nodded, hands behind her back. "But you still want to do it, right?" she asked with a hopeful tone in her voice. "Once you sign there' sorta no getting out."

Zexion's hand twitched. "I think I've stated this before, but your questioning and informing are gradually getting me disinterested."

"'Kay, 'kay, Crabby, I'm shutting up," the counselor assured with a roll of her eyes.

Zexion's fingers slowly found their ability to move once more and began scrawling his signature onto the paper. Before the teen could even process his actions, it was written and done, and Miss Lockhart smiled.

"Alrighty, then, you keep that," she gestured to the paper, putting it inside his binder. "And I'll just put it in the system. Make sure to read the paper and do whatever it says, okay?"

"O…kay," Zexion said, hand still assuming the writing position. But when sense came back to him, he quickly and somewhat defeated set it down on the counselor's desk, grabbing his binder and hugging it to his chest, as if for comfort. "I'll…see you Monday, then, I suppose?"

"Yuppers, see you then!" And she escorted him out of the room, a pleased and triumphant smile on her face as she closed the door behind him. And he stood there, a bit dazed, mind not serving him as well as it should have been.

Alright, fine, he had just sold his soul to the devil now; the teen would admit that much. He sold his soul and starting Monday next week, he'd give his mind over to a lesser power. Why, oh why had his body disobeyed his mind's wishes? Well, Zexion knew the answer to that one, and he didn't like the fact one bit:

Some people just went against their will.

**_.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:_**

**Xelruna: **It's occured to me i never properly thanked you people before for the reviews. Well, arigato, I appreciate the kind words! -bows- Oh! And thx to **Sexy-Tacos-Emo-Waffles** for teaching me the new word 'plaudits'; its so fun to say now XXD

Peace out, n00bs!


	3. Opinion:Being Together Makes PPL Friends

**A/N: **Sorry that this is like a half-month late! I just…really needed some mental health days. A lot of drama has been brewin' back at home but I am persevering. –determined face- In any case, let the story go on, considering you all prolly want me to shut up ;p

Enjoy.

_**Opinion: Being Together Makes People Friends**_

The bus was on Boone Street when Zexion promptly jolted up from his seat and held on to the one in front of him. He made sure his backpack was secure between the seat and his back, his expression expectant and annoyed.

The speed of the bus slowed down some, but it didn't help much as it drove swiftly over a large pothole. Everyone inside effectively was jumped up from their seats and slammed back down on whatever body part they had the misfortune of landing on. Zexion himself found his ribs smarting afterward and his brain felt like it had been rattled around too much inside his skull.

"Pothole," Fuu, Zexion's younger sister, warned belatedly five seats in front of him.

Zexion sighed – this was not the best way to begin a Monday.

Oh, wait – that's right. It was Monday – _the_ dreaded day. A week had passed since the teen sealed his fate by signing the tutoring forms. There was just one odd thing about the whole affair:

Zexion hadn't bothered in telling Demyx anything.

But really, though, how could he? It wasn't something to be lightly conversed about – not that Zexion conversed often, which made his task all the more difficult to approach.

On the other hand, Demyx insisted in spending most of first period trying to talk to him. And always was he laughing at something, or sometimes nothing at all. Even when the blonde was merely listening to the things Zexion said, he'd smile so brightly. And then the slate-haired teen would find himself stimulated by Demyx's actions – but only for a moment, before his mind snapped back to its nonchalant state.

Still, other times the swimmer was annoying – interrupting Zexion's train of thought when he was trying to complete an assignment. Though he supposed he couldn't completely blame Demyx – it was after all in an athlete's nature to have so much energy and have a short attention span.

This was yet another reason, and perhaps the primary one, for Zexion to be so perplexed – Demyx chose to talk to _him_. He, Zexion the sociopath! No one else in school was ever so bored to do that – well, Lexaeus was once again the exception.

Looking around the classroom during first period that day, Zexion examined the other students. There was Maxi Valentine – who was very pretty with dark eyes and white skin and was the best artist in the school. There was also Rikku, who had been an excellent cheerleader in her sophomore year and whose mother was an actress. Xisla Phan was one of the smartest people in the school without having a stick up her ass…

Zexion raised a brow. Everyone in class had more a possibility of conversing with Demyx Watera than him. The slate-haired teen was easily the less ranked of the teenagers…

"Hey, good morning!" exclaimed that familiar voice.

…and yet. Zexion looked up, meeting bright eyes and a sincere smile.

"How are you today, Zexy?" the blonde asked happily, turning his chair around and straddling it.

The teen sighed. "Once again, your hearing abilities fail you," he said, taking out a piece of paper from his binder. "I told you Friday and the day before that to not call me 'Zexy'. It's common courtesy to listen to what others have to say to you."

"I did listen to you, but I ignored it!" Demyx laughed it off, crossing his arms over Zexion's desk.

"Then it's not really _listening_, but _hearing_, yes?" Zexion returned, beginning to read that day's warm-up on the overhead projector.

"Must you always be so moody?" the swimmer inquired with a sigh. "Isn't there ever a day where you're ever… I don't know, _happy_?"

"I've experienced euphoria before, yes," Zexion said nonchalantly, starting to write on his paper. "I just happen to never experience it in front of you."

"And there goes my self-esteem," Demyx exaggerated, sagging his body onto the desk. He then sat up and dug into his backpack for his own piece of paper – at least giving the appearance he was doing something.

_Does he _ever _do his work_? The slate-haired teen thought with a raised brow. But then that's when he remembered once again about what he _should_ be discussing with the blonde. Zexion found his grip on his pencil somewhat tighter.

Maybe it had been a mistake after all. Maybe the teen had had a temporary moment of intense insanity. That had to be it, yes!

_But it's not like I can get out of this_ now, he thought. And really, what is there to fear but fear itself? The prospect of Demyx laughing in his face? No, that didn't seem too likely – the blonde seemed to like Zexion well enough to not do that. Maybe it was the idea of spending the next few months _together_ with him – _stuck_ to him?

Yeah, that was most likely it.

Demyx chose that moment to look up from his imaginary hard work, eyes meeting Zexion's. He blinked, looking a little surprised. "What?" he asked, a smile already tugging on his lips.

Zexion furrowed his brows, examining cool, oceanic eyes for awhile, almost contemplating. He straightened himself up in his seat, looking down and scribbling on his paper once more. "There's…something you should know."

Demyx was immediately into the conversation. "Ooh, what's this? Zexy has a secret?" he whispered, as if he didn't want the world to know what Zexion was going to say. And honestly, the teen wouldn't have it any other way.

He ignored Demyx leaning into him and he said as quietly as possible that it was a murmur, "Erm…do you per chance remember signing up for peer tutoring?"

"Hmm? Oh, that," the swimmer said, deflating as if the news bummed him out. Which it should. "My coach made me sign up. He said I couldn't stay on the swim team if I couldn't keep my grades up. Thus, the tutoring – which sucks toads."

Zexion quickly got that slightly disturbing mental picture out of his mind, his said, "Well, my counselor was informing me about it. Apparently I…was selected to be tutor for the…activity." Argh, he was going in circles with this. He just had to hurry up and get it out in the open. No wait; scratch that – not the open.

In front of him, Demyx was staring at him patiently, a first for him. And for once, he wasn't smiling. But his expression wasn't that of someone expecting certain doom – almost like someone expecting a miracle. His eyes were a little wider and kept gazing at Zexion inquiringly; his hands gripped the chair tightly. Strange behavior for the blonde and Zexion wondered what it could mean.

He let out a deep breath. He was never so insecure in his life – actually, he had never been insecure period. Demyx may be a jock, but he wasn't a bomb. It wasn't like the swimmer could actually harm him – and even if he did, what did it matter? Demyx wasn't anything to him. Demyx was just…_there_.

"It appears…that we have…" Oh, stop prolonging the moment, his mind ordered. You could cut the suspense with a knife. "…been paired up." Zexion stopped writing, but still looked down at his paper.

Oh, well…it seemed the world was still intact, he hadn't burst into flames and Demyx wasn't protesting (well, yet). Maybe the situation hadn't been as delicate as Zexion made it seem.

Still, that left Demyx. The slate-haired teen chanced looking up. The blonde was smiling excitedly, but…he wasn't saying anything. Zexion frowned. Why wasn't Demyx saying anything? Demyx_ always_ had something to say, but now he looked so pleased with himself. _Silently_, at that! Not that Zexion was complaining about the quiet, but it was **Demyx** for God's sake!

Oh, well _**crap**_. It seems the world was unthreading at the seams after all.

"You're quiet," Zexion pointed out with a raised brow.

The blonde continued to stare with sealed lips, nodding. In his throat, he grunted a, "Mm-hm."

"…Why the hell aren't you speaking?" the teen demanded, looking at the swimmer like he might explode at any moment. Well, he had to be prepared, right?

Demyx put on a contemplating expression, probably wondering how he could answer in only meaningless noises.

"Talk," Zexion ordered, snapping his fingers in front of the blonde's face. "It's starting to concern me that you're not speaking."

"Oh, so you like me to talk?" Demyx asked, a renewed look of happiness on his face.

Zexion frowned. "I don't recall ever mentioning that. I merely noted how uncharacteristic it was of you not to be blabbing away." Now that the ice had been cracked, the teen looked at the other tentatively. "Did you actually listen to what I had to say this time? About the two of us working together for the peer tutoring?"

"Oh, yes, I heard you," Demyx said, putting his elbow on the desk and cupping his cheek. "I just didn't want to ruin anything by talking - it, er, seems I do that a lot."

"'Ruin anything'?" Zexion repeated, confused. "There was nothing _to_ ruin."

"I figured you didn't want me to say anything." Demyx shrugged. "We're going to be working together for the next few months now. I didn't want you to get annoyed by me already – I want you to like me."

_You want me to_ like _you_? Zexion thought incredulously. What did his feelings towards the blonde have to do with anything? But he had to admit, despite the slightly confusing thought process behind it, it was a compassionate thought. Still, the teen was as apathetic as ever – the sentence only caused the littlest of stirs inside him.

"So you are accepting of our partnership?" he asked tentatively.

Demyx brightened up once more, sitting up and smiling. "'Accepting'? I'm totally stoked! This is awesome – now we can hang out together more often!" he exclaimed, causing the teacher to give him a warning glance. Lowering his voice some, he assured, "Don't worry – the two of us are going to be friends in no time!"

'Friends'? My, did the blonde use terms that Zexion wasn't too familiar with. "What does a relationship between us mean anything towards your academic success?" he inquired, tucking his completed warm-up away in his binder.

"What do you mean? You don't want a friend?" Demyx asked in disbelief. "You can't be that antisocial! Everyone wants someone to be around - that's why God made Eve for Adam!"

Yeah, okay, let's bring up the Story of Creation when it doesn't matter, why not? The slate-haired teen took an inaudible deep breath.

"C'mon, lemme be your friend," Demyx said, a sincere expression on his face.

Egad. A friend? Zexion never wanted a friend – never especially needed one. Plus, a friend was like faith: you could only have it if you believed in it. But Zexion didn't believe in faith – so what hope did he have to achieve a friend?

The teen remained silent for some time. But he finally recovered, saying, "We start today. I have the papers containing all the points we must meet in this erudition."

"Starting today?" Demyx looked up in thought. "There's no specific place we're supposed to do this, right? Like, this is on our free time?"

"Yes, this is for our leisure."

"Sweet!" the blonde exclaimed – he was practically jumping in his seat from excitement. "So, would you-!"

"Alright, class let's go over the warm-up I'm sure you've all been _working diligently_ on," the teacher said, giving the interrupted swimmer a pointed look.

"Yes, yes. Of course, Miss," he assured, getting his chair and going back to his own seat. The blonde leaned into Zexion on the way and whispered, "Tell ya later."

_**.:.;.:.:.:.:.:.:.:**_

So Demyx took it well. What's more, he seemed rather blissful at the announcement.

_Wonder why_… Zexion thought during fourth period. What could there possibly be to gain from the teen other than his tutelage? Practically nothing yet Demyx took the situation to be good news. Was this really such a good idea…? Dubious feelings were bubbling up inside him more as time passed.

The lunch bell rang and Zexion got up from his seat to follow his classmates towards the cafeteria. While waiting in line, the teen wondered what he should do about the tutoring: Did it really matter what subject they started on? Miss Lockhart had shown Zexion Demyx's report card to him and it seemed Calculus was the weakest point.

_I suppose we could start on that_. So then, where would they go? Definitely not Zexion's house – he automatically made the mental note for Demyx never to step foot within his domain. The public library might also have to be ruled out – with the blonde's attention span, who knew how long he'd last there. He could just hear that exasperating loud voice echo in the otherwise quiet building. The thought was enough to make the slate-haired teen twitch.

"Zexy! Hey, Zexion!"

Sigh, there was never a beat missed_. Keep walking, Zexion_, he told himself, his pace increasing slightly. _Just keep walking and pretend you hear nothing. It is just a voice – a real, annoying and ominous voice that happens to know your name_…

But obviously his reasoning wasn't as powerful as he made himself believe. The owner of the voice sought him out and it got louder and louder until…a hand rested firmly onto Zexion's shoulder, making him jump.

"Hey, Zexy, don't you hear me callin' you?"

"I apologize if my ears can't single out your voice amongst the blare of everyone else's in the cafeteria," Zexion retorted under his breath. Luckily, Demyx didn't seem to hear – or care – instead moving in front of him.

"I came to see if you wanted to sit with me at my table. I didn't get to finish talking to you in first – you just sorta disappeared when the bell rang."

Oh yeah, Zexion remembered hat. When he ran like the frickin' dickens – out of character as it may have been, he couldn't stand to be in the blonde's company for long. His mental condition could only take so much…

"You want me to join _you_ at _your_ table?" the teen repeated. Well, gee, why did that sound like the stupidest idea to ever be voiced?

Demyx rolled his eyes, not catching the hint of disbelief. "Nah, man, I'm just goosin' ya," he teased. Tugging on Zexion's uniform shirt, he offered again, "C'mon, come sit with me. I'll introduce you to my cousin and her friends – they're a nice bunch, I swear."

_I think we may have different definitions of 'nice'_, Zexion thought bitterly but he had no more to say on the subject when the blonde whisked him away in the opposite direction. He half-jogged to keep up with Demyx's long strides but the pair soon paused in front of a table.

"Alright, guys, I got him!" the blonde exclaimed proudly to the group at the table. "Okay, then intros are in order: Guys this is Zexion Anderson. Zexion, these are Sora, Naminé, Axle, Olette, and my cousin Roxanne." He pointed to each person respectively. Demyx took a seat next to a red-haired girl, the one named Axle.

"Sit, they're not gonna bite," the swimmer promised, patting the empty seat next to him. Tentatively, Zexion complied, making sure not to sit too close to Demyx.

A girl with bright green eyes – Olette, Demyx said? - smiled friendly at the slate-haired teen. "Ah, so you're the famous Zexion Anderson, hmm?"

Zexion blinked then looked over at Demyx as for support. "'Famous'? What have you told them about me?"

The group laughed, apparently amused at what he said.

"Aw, he's cute – I love him already," Olette gushed gaily, putting her hands together in a clapping gesture.

"Hey, don't tease the poor guy," Demyx said, looking at Zexion. Flashing his white teeth, he said, "I don't think he receives declarations of affection often – look at him, he's blushing!"

Between Olette's comment and Demyx's smile and eyes, the teen did indeed feel flushed. It was really about the first time he ever got so embarrassed to a point he blushed – or got embarrassed at all. And quite frankly, he didn't enjoy the feeling. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus his attention on his food.

Why on Earth was he sitting here? This wasn't normal at all – Zexion wasn't used to being around so many people that were, for lack of better word, _aware_ of his existence. He just really wanted to go back to the corner table where Lexaeus probably was. Would Lexaeus even notice he had gone?

There was just no end to the things that went wrong in Zexion's life – especially when he was with Demyx. Speaking of whom, he was giving the slate-haired teen quite a lot of glances. Zexion turned to meet those captivating eyes and was surprised to see Demyx visibly jump, redden, then smile awkwardly. Zexion blinked, not knowing exactly what this behavior meant.

"S-so, um – Zexion, was it?" The teen looked away from the swimmer and stared at a small blonde girl who he originally thought was a boy. Her hair was cut above her shoulders and her rather baggy uniform shirt didn't leave much to believe there was a female body under it. Her cheeks were stained pink and her eyes were a deep ocean blue.

_She looks nothing like Demyx_, Zexion thought, remembering the girl was the swimmer's cousin, Roxanne.

"Yes, that's my name."

"So what are you and Demyx doing exactly?" she asked. Her tone was dubious and her actions rather paranoid. Zexion wondered what it was that was spurring her to act like this – unless this was a normal attribute to her?

"I must help him with his studies," he replied indifferently. "He showed some rather concerning weak points in his academics that needs to be taken care of."

"So you're his tutor, then?" piped up a small, quiet voice that belonged to the petite blonde girl, Naminé.

"It's a title I must obligate to live with," Zexion murmured, but nodded to answer her question.

The red-haired girl on the other side of Demyx, Axle, smirked. "Ha, and you made fun of _my_ grades," she said triumphantly. "It seems you've been slipping as well."

"Shut up, Ax, those are two totally different scenarios," Demyx defended. "Besides, Zexion here is super smart. Oh, he helped the teachers during summer school – he was like a staff aid. I saw him there, isn't it cool?"

"Really? That's great," Olette complimented, smiling at Zexion, but then she shot Demyx a knowing look. "But don't get _too_ reliant, Demyx. Zexion shouldn't hesitate to drop you if you get lazy."

"Which he will," Axle murmured, but loud enough for her to be heard.

The blonde rolled his eyes, gesturing to the girls. "Y'see what I must live with? When you're not lowering my self-esteem, _they_ are."

"It's a tough job, but someone has to do it," Axle declared, exchanging smirks with Olette. Zexion almost felt like smiling, but quickly suppressed the urge by continuing to eat.

The rest of the lunch period passed uneventfully – not counting the numerous times Zexion caught Demyx staring at him. Which was becoming increasingly obnoxious. Really now – there were other things to do in this cafeteria besides give Zexion these weird gazes… Like Demyx was undressing him with his eyes…

The teen blinked. Oh in the name of All That is Knowledge, please don't confirm that last thought. The swimmer…couldn't _possibly_ be looking at **him** in _that_ kind of way. No. No way. Why would Demyx want to undress him? …No, wait – don't ponder it. There's just _waaaaaaaaay_ too many things wrong with that statement. Don't think about it, don't think about it…

Oh crap, he thought about it.

Now Zexion was getting paranoid. Mentally, he kept telling Demyx to look the other way. _Go on, look somewhere else_. But the blonde never complied. Not that Zexion expected it to work, but whatever. _Just focus on lunch_. Oh, wait that's right – he was already done! Nothing to do but sit here idly as Demyx continued to stare.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. Slowly and cautiously he turned his head to look into the swimmer's eyes. "Do you…have something against me?"

The question was obviously not expected, if Demyx's blank stare indicated anything. "Have something against you? What makes you think that?"

"You keep staring at me."

The blonde's cheeks flushed. "Oh, I…I am? I mean – y-yeah, I guess I am." He laughed awkwardly. "Heh, s-sorry about that. It's just…" He looked at Zexion again.

Usually, the teen was able to read any expression on a person's face. But for the first time as he looked into another's eyes and examined their countenance, he found the feeling within unfathomable. It was frustrating not to know what the other was thinking – what the hell was going on? Zexion furrowed his brows slightly in concentration but found it was still a lost cause.

"Hey, are you two having a staring contest or something?" That would be Olette speaking.

"Yes, and I'm totally winning," Demyx said, his usual smile on his face. Zexion suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

The bell rang, announcing the end of lunch and students reluctantly got up from their seats and returned to the confines of their classrooms. But just as Demyx himself was standing, Zexion interjected the action by asking, "Wasn't there something you wanted to tell me?"

The swimmer's face lit up. "Ah, you remembered. Pen and paper please," he asked, holding out his hand. Zexion didn't know what the writing utensil and paper were for but dug one out from his binder nonetheless. "Okay, then." He began writing something down in surprisingly legit handwriting. "Here ya go." He slid the paper back to the silent slate-haired teen and gazed at him expectantly.

Zexion examined the paper, reading its contents: _10886 Richmond Ave. #909 The purple house with a white van out front_

He looked at the blonde curiously.

"My house," Demyx explained with a grin. "We'll study there tonight, 'kay?" Zexion didn't even have time to widen his eyes incredulously before the swimmer was up and leaving.

"I'll see you there!" he called, giving the slate-haired teen a big wave good-bye.

Good-bye indeed. Good-bye to Zexion's last piece of sanity.

_Is he going to get it through his miniscule mind_, he thought, watching as the cafeteria emptied out, _that this project does _not_ make us friends?_

He didn't even consider it; he knew the answer: When Hell freezes over, maybe.

_**.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:.:**_

**Xelruna: **Talking was never my forte. Even on the Internet, I have to force myself to respond to someone. I'm just insecure that way. But Zexion, he's antisocial and doesn't really give a fudge what others think of him. So it's pretty fun to type his character sometimes, even though in my mind I'm like, _Noooo, don't do that - give Demyx-chan a huggle!!!! T.T_

Alas. XD


	4. Fact: Emotions Don't Help the Mind

**A/N: **I said it was going to be November, and it still is (technically)! And even thought it's really the last DAY of November I have still kept my promise! Bwahahahaha (God bless the loopholes…XDXDXD) Well, in any case, I hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. I really had two because I have two separate families XD Argh, I got fat; I just know it… -pokes stomach-

Oh, it has come to my attention that yes, I am using the same title as Linkin Park's album _Hybrid Theory_. Darn, I have been found out. Although it is MUCH belated I think I should still make this because it just feels right. So, mini-**DISCLAIMER**: I do _NOT_ own the title _Hybrid Theory_; obviously (as stated above) it belongs to the rockin' group of Linkin Park .When I angst, it is you I listen to X3

Enjoy.

_**Fact: Emotions Don't Help the Mind**_

It was just going to be one of those evenings, Zexion surmised. He was already at Demyx's house – not _inside_ mind you, but waiting dubiously at the front door.

Finding the house had been the easy part. Zexion didn't find it at all surprising when he discovered Demyx's house was the only one whose lawn was overgrown and bushes in dire need of a trim. And for some queer reason, there was a wreath of daises hung on the door – as if the fact this was Demyx's house wasn't ominous enough. Zexion had a sinking feeling he'd lose a drastic amount of brain cells here.

Okay, yes, melodrama aside…

He knocked one, twice, then waited. Nothing. He knocked again, firmer this time. Still nothing.

"You invite me against my will and yet you haven't the initiative to even be _home_?" Zexion fumed in agitation. Then he heard something – it was very vague; perhaps he had imagined it? No, there it was again, faintly. It sounded like…

The slate-haired teen pressed his ear against the door. Yes, the sound was definitely there and it was…a piano? Zexion strained to hear. That was a piano being played – quite well actually even though the tune sounded simple. Then there was a voice. The words – lyrics, perhaps – were incoherent behind the wooden door, but Zexion could tell it was a woman.

Alright, now wonder no one could hear him. He spotted the doorbell and immediately pressed it firmly. The bell echoed in the house but the pianist continued on. Just as the teen growled in frustration, he heard footsteps run frantically down stairs.

"Hey Mom, was that the bell?" Ah, that would be Demyx. Zexion knocked this time and stood back a bit.

"Hmm?" the responding voice was faint but the music stopped abruptly. "What did you say?"

"Ma, no one can hear the door if you're playing," Demyx explained impatiently, his voice getting louder as he approached the front entrance. Locks clicked and turned and soon Zexion was staring up into bright aqua eyes. "Hey, you made it!" the swimmer exclaimed with a wide smile.

"Evidently," Zexion replied flatly, hugging his binder to his chest. "And I must congratulate you on your punctuality."

Demyx snorted. "So is the sarcasm just a package deal with you?" Not bothering for an answer, he stepped aside. "Well, come on in now. Sorry I didn't answer you earlier, but Ma was practicing in the music room."

And then as if on cue, a woman who had a striking resemblance to Demyx entered the entranceway. Her skin was fair, her hair straight and the same dirty blonde as her son. Her lips were a bit fuller, but anyone would be able to spot the same childish glint in her apple-green eyes. She smiled sincerely and extended a hand. Zexion noted her perfect pianist fingers – long and thin.

"Hello, I'm Demyx's mother, Iri," she greeted in a chipper voice, not at all fake like other mothers seemed to use.

Tentatively, Zexion shook her hand and nodded tersely. "Zexion Anderson. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Watera," he replied politely, releasing her hand. To his surprise, she chuckled.

"Demyx told me you were well-mannered," she commented through her unwavering smile. It was then Zexion noticed the laugh lines around her eyes. "But if it's all the same, Iri works fine."

The slate-haired teen nodded, giving his signature neutral answer. Iri looked down at him in apology. "Sorry about my playing, but I didn't expect you so soon. Did you come right after school? You still have your uniform on," she noted, scrutinizing the THS uniform. Demyx had probably long since changed, now decked in baggy jeans and a weird tie-dye shirt.

"Yes, well, I have a curfew," Zexion explained tersely, hugging his binder even closer. Luckily, Demyx saved him from further conversation as he said,

"Okay Mom, stop pestering the guy. We're gonna be up in my room now studying."

Iri chuckled. "Now there's a word I don't hear come out of your mouth often," she murmured. Offering another smile, she said, "Well alright. Be sure to tell me if you need anything, okay, sweetie?" To Zexion's astonishment, he saw that the question was directed at him.

He frowned, not exactly used to being addressed as 'sweetie'. "Um…I'll make sure to comply when the time comes," he replied quietly, fidgeting slightly. Zexion was never shy, yet he felt incredibly meek all of a sudden. He surmised it was the maternal feeling in the air.

Iri smiled and waved them off. "I'll be on the piano for another few minutes, so close the door if you'd like, Demyx."

"Gotcha," the blonde replied, suddenly taking Zexion's arm and dragging him upstairs. When they made it to the second landing, Demyx released him and sighed. "Sorry about that, Mom can get overfriendly sometimes."

Instead of retorting with a comeback, Zexion found himself asking a question. "Is she…always so happy?"

"Please, this is her in a bad mood," Demyx informed with a roll of his eyes. "She's a piano teacher and really loves music. So I doubt she actually like, _meant_ it when she says 'another few minutes'. I think she's the one I get my ADD attitude from…" He went down the hall to an open door. "Well, this is my room in here. Take a seat wherever you find space. And er," he flushed slightly, "sorry about the mess. I tried to clean-up before you came, but since you came early and all, I didn't get very far on it…"

And as soon as the slate-haired teen stepped inside, he found himself immediately agreeing to the lack of cleanliness. Amongst the litter of clothes, DVDs, CDs and paper, there was really only one small space to sit in. The swimmer's bed was also occupied with a weird stringed instrument and his uniform (let's not also forget the bed was additionally unmade). There was a closed closet that Zexion suspected held more than clothes and to his right was a tank, within it a large mud-coloured snake. The teen widened his eyes upon seeing it, which Demyx noted.

"Oh, don't worry. Beat's harmless," he assured, clearing away as much space as he could. "Actually, he's pretty mellow – happy just looking around at things around him. Oh see? He's checking you out right now."

And of all the outlandish things that had happened to Zexion, being studied by a snake was topping the weird scale. He nodded in reluctant acknowledgment, not bothering with words.

After making a reasonable amount of space, Demyx smiled. "Do you want to play with him? He really is calmer than most snakes."

Beat, as if listening in on the conversation, burrowed deeper in his terrarium until most of his self was hidden beneath rock and sand. Quite honestly, Zexion couldn't have rejected the idea any better.

"I believe we're here to study?" the teen reminded, holding out his binder. "Math, preferably, since that is your weakest point."

"You don't believe in wasting words, do you?"

"I don't believe in wasting efforts, either," Zexion added as a retort. Sighing, he put his binder down and rubbed his temples as if agitated. "Let's get this straight now, Demyx Watera: I'm _not_ here to be your so-called 'buddy'. I do not seek friendship. I'm _not_ here so you can waste my time. I'm here to simplify your education so that you may understand the material to go on with your life so that I may go on with mine."

The swimmer's brows furrowed in what looked to be hurt, to the teen's surprise. But the emotion was only present for a moment before the blonde gave an upbeat smile. "Sure, whatever you say," he said. Translated into jock terms (the language that Zexion was almost fluent in now), the statement meant something along the simple lines of, "Hell" and "no".

Oh how plentiful were bad omens today…

"You really don't take me seriously, do you?" Zexion asked incredulously.

To this, Demyx countered with, "Do you take _me_ seriously?"

_Why would I take _you_ seriously? Give just one good reason now. Honestly, just one_. But Zexion didn't answer; he knew when he was cornered. Not responding, he merely sat on the floor next to Demyx and opened his binder. Surprisingly as he did so, the swimmer got a notebook and textbook out from under all the junk and mess. (It seemed like an amazing thing in and of itself that such things existed in the room..)

Seeing Zexion's stunned expression, Demyx smiled smugly. "We're starting with math, right?"

"…" Zexion swallowed his witty retorts and scowled. He hated being one-upped. Especially by a water-brained jock; especially by Demyx.

_

* * *

_

"…Then by using basic operations to solve the remaining values, the answer will be negative 3 plus or minus 17_i_ over 2." Zexion put down his pencil and looked pointedly at Demyx. "Understood, yet?"

The swimmer's brows were furrowed in either deep concentration or severe agitation. He looked from the textbook to Zexion's somewhat complicated equations (at least to him they were…). Finally, he twisted his lips in a grimace and shook his head. "Ah…no. That's pure gibberish to me right there."

Zexion sighed – not bothering to hide how weary he was becoming. The two had been at this for almost two hours and the most progress made was Demyx being able to open the textbook to the right page. This, the teen concluded, was utterly _pointless_. And if Demyx possessed any _shred_ of intellect, he'd come to the same conclusion as well.

And apparently he had. "Listen, I'm sorry," he apologized, looking down. "I want to learn the material, but I…I just never get it. And even with you here explaining and breaking down for me like I'm a fucking retard…it's still hard."

Zexion blinked incredulously. Never before had he witnessed a jock so…self-dejected. Pissed off, all the time. Lusting after cheerleaders, just as often. But the crestfallen expression on Demyx's face was something utterly new. It made Zexion feel a little awkward.

He sighed again and brushed his bangs out of his face, knowing they'd only fall back into place. "Okay, um…look, we can just try again tomorrow. It was first day and I think I went too fast…" Zexion grimaced, trying to feign actual concern. He began placing his papers back inside his binder. "So don't…mentally kill yourself over it. We still have the whole semester."

Demyx looked up in surprise, but didn't say anything.

"What time do you what me to come tomorrow?" Zexion asked slowly, trying to pretend that Demyx wasn't staring at him so intensely.

Finally whatever had the blonde so zoned out went away, as if a bubble had been popped. "Huh? You still want to do it tomorrow?" he asked, almost incredulously. "I mean, you don't have anything else to do?"

"I was under the impression it was my obligation to help you pass your classes," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "In any case, I need to be going home now. Thanks for the…hospitality."

Demyx's face lit up. "No problem! Come by anytime you want!"

"You…" Zexion murmured to himself but loud enough for the swimmer to hear, "you're just going to milk this for all its worth aren't you?"

"I'll get you to come around at some point," Demyx agreed with a confident smile. "I'll see you tomorrow then. Oh hey, I'll walk you to the door," he offered, beginning to get up.

Zexion held up a hand in protest. "No, that's fine, I can escort myself," he assured hastily, starting to back up blindly, which was a really bad thing to do when you're in Demyx's room. He stepped back and began to stumble on what felt like a cord around his ankles.

"Whoa!" Demyx exclaimed, grabbing Zexion's flailing hand only to go down with him with an uncomfortable thud. Zexion groaned in slight pain, not expecting it to hurt so much when his head landed on the ground. And then there was something _heavy_ over him… "Hey, are you okay?"

Zexion's eyes widened quickly, his cheeks starting to feel really hot. I mean, for God's sake please don't say that _Demyx_ was really _on top of_ him! The swimmer shifted until he was hands-and-knees above the slate-haired teen. Oceanic eyes frantically scanned Zexion, probably checking for nonexistent bruises or bloody messes. "Sorry, oh crap, are you okay, Zexy?"

The teen put his hands on the body above him but only flushed further when he unconsciously noted how smooth Demyx's skin felt, even underneath the clothing. Trying to maintain his regular persona, he mumbled sheepishly, "I told you it's not 'Zexy'."

That caused Demyx to laugh, but only for a short moment as he no doubt felt the pair of hands over his chest. Tan cheeks immediately flushed red. "O-oh, sorry! Sorry! I'll get off now! Sorry!"

"Stop apologizing," Zexion ordered, but it probably lacked the sharpness his words usually had. He sat up and rubbed his smarting head as Demyx rolled off him. "Ow, are your floorboards…made of _steel_ or something?"

"And here I thought you were a hard-head," the blonde countered, still looking like he was trying to shrug off the awkward moment of their position. "Um…I'll clean up better next time so something like that doesn't happen again."

"Most advisable," Zexion agreed, picking up his binder. "I'll see you tomorrow, Demyx."

Bright aqua eyes lit up in what was undoubtedly happiness. "Dude, that is the first time you've said my name!" he exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. A highly _obnoxious_ yet contagious smile that nearly had the corners of Zexion's lips perk upward as well.

Frowning, he mused, "Is it? I hardly think that is a celebratory experience."

Demyx chuckled. "It is to me!"

"…" Zexion turned around and slowly walked down the hallway, trying not to picture that (_incredible_) smile in his head. "Good-bye Demyx."

"You said it again!" came the excited reply. It took a lot of Zexion's willpower not to chuckle.

_

* * *

_

It was already night when the front door to the Anderson residence clicked open, shrieked on its hinges, and slammed closed. The autumn air slipped in, momentarily surrounding Zexion in a cool draft. Not even glancing up from the book he was reading. He said softly, "You're a bit tardy coming home. Get into another one of your fisticuffs?"

"…" Fuu didn't say anything in reply, not that the teen had expected her to. Her footsteps echoed in the empty and deathly-quiet house, though they were slightly…irregular. And Zexion quickly caught on to that.

"Are you harmed?" he asked, trying to keep his apathy in check; trying to sound as sincerely worried as he possibly could.

Unfortunately, like her brother, Fuu wasn't easily tricked. She scoffed, code for, _Don't act like you care_. And who was Zexion to deny a demand like that? His younger sister was in _gangs_ for goodness sake; the teen's strength was in his brain, not his brawn.

Gingerly, he turned a page, knowing that even the slight crackle of paper could set his sibling off. "I made some dinner and left some in the refrigerator. Help yourself to it." Wearily, he added, "Father isn't home yet. I suspect overtime is to blame."

Fuu made another sound of displeasure. "Of course…" she murmured tersely in her usual monotone of a voice. It lacked about the same kind of feeling Zexion's did. Who knew that one of the (and probably the only) things they had in common was their indifference? But Fuu was a bit worse – she never spoke more than two syllables. Hadn't in years.

Zexion spoke before he could stop himself. "At least he's _contributing_ to society instead of _deteriorating_ it with meaningless violence." It was silent for a long time, the meaning of the sentence lingering painfully in the air. Zexion grimaced, knowing he'd hurt his younger sister in some way. He sighed guiltily. "Listen, Fuu-"

_Ptoo_! A dark flash of red flew across the room and landed on the previously flawless white carpet. Zexion stared at the crimson blot in shock but he was even more stunned at the state and expression of his sibling's face. Like her brother, a veil of short hair covered one of her eyes, but the one that was visible had a clear sign of resentment concealed within them. Blood slowly ran down her bruised lips and her clothes were blotched with smeared marks of red – her plasma or someone else's, Zexion didn't really want to know.

She tore her gaze away and began limping down the hallway to her room. A million unsaid words lingered in the atmosphere, many of them cruel, but no one voiced them. No one wanted to waste words like that. At least, not in this household. Zexion waited until he heard the final slam of a door before bookmarking and closing his book.

When he was in the comfort of his own room, the slate-haired teen gently closed the door, making it a little audible so that his sister knew that he was confined within his own walls. His chest rose and slowly fell as he took a quiet deep breath. This was actually a typical day: a delinquent younger sister coming home marred, a father too busy to notice how there was something wrong with his children…and one slate-haired boy who surprisingly gave the situation little notice.

A queer memory came into his head all of a sudden. A woman with locks of periwinkle looked down at him with sad eyes as she whispered shakily, "_Why did you both turn out like this? Why don't you ever tell me what's _wrong_?_"

Zexion looked across at the vast darkness that night had given his room. He walked towards his bed and lay down with the tentativeness of a panther. He waited until closing his eyes to mull the memory over, musing the parting words and disappointed looks of his mother. The woman who had been out of his life for the past three years.

The teen opened his eyes, the air suddenly seeming way too hot. Warm chills went down his spine like desert winds. He shot up form his bed and went over to the desk that took up a corner of his room. Shakily, he opened a drawer and removed a sheet of paper. Turning his lamp on, Zexion settled onto his chair and removed a pen from a set of them held in a cup. He closed his eyes and tried to let the words flow into him as they always did.

_Thought of you once today_

_But once was too much to remember…_

There was a somewhat familiar clogged feeling in his chest, but Zexion ignored. Just like he ignored all his feelings. Writing was only to put a lid on the human emotions that had built up inside him – it was like pacifying a demon, knowing it'd come back later. But…Zexion didn't know how to completely exorcise these devils of feelings within him. But why? Feelings didn't help you in life. Love and hate only threw the world in controversy. _That_ was a fact.

The weight in his chest eased up a little. Yes…fact, that's right. The one safe-zone of the world. Simultaneously thinking up new facts and writing down his burrowed feelings, the teen began to feel better; newer…

…_number_.

For some odd reason, he wished Demyx was there.

_

* * *

_

**Xelruna: **Alright and here's to a new chapter! I thought this would be easy to write, but before I knew it I was typing more and more until the chapter eventually formed into this. I hope it's not bad. But I felt that we should know more background info on Zexion's family as well as delve deeper into him. Zexion really isn't as cold-hearted as this; that should become apparent as the fic goes on. Actually, the plot should really be going faster now. Should.

In any case, I know its been awhile, and wow a LOT has happened. But you can just check my profile if you want to read what's been up with me (readers: just get on with it; we don't care about your miniscule life). T.T

So, am I still worthy of a review?


	5. Opinion: Fear is Rational

**A/N: **I don't really have an explanation for not updating in eons. There was a certain part of the story I got severely stuck on and there was point I seriously just considered deleting the story. But I told myself I was writing this fic for a reason and that I was just having a bad case of writer's block –dies- Anyways, I'm here updating now, so hopefully this chapter pays off. I tried to make it as long as I could for you guys!

All I know is that once this chapter is over, it'll be gone and I won't have to deal with it again! –dies- I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!

I pray that you'll enjoy this.

_**Opinion: Fear is Rational**_

Two weeks later. A Saturday morning to be precise and the house was as silent as usual. Zexion's father was gone again; taking early shifts and probably wouldn't be home until the afternoon. Fuu was supposedly dormant in her room, though it was highly probable that she had snuck out long ago and met up with her thug 'friends'.

Zexion padded into the kitchen, running a hand through his bed-head hair. He grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry and milk from the refrigerator and sat down to eat his breakfast alone. The only sound in the house then was the clinking of the spoon and the soft crunches of cereal being eaten.

It wasn't that big a deal – being alone, that was. Zexion was used to it by now. And actually – if it wasn't apparent yet – the teen _liked_ his solitude. There was no noise, no people…just him and quiet. But that was something Zexion learned to live with and love.

_Losing yourself in nothingness_, he thought as he began to wash his bowl, _is the most enjoyable feeling to me. It is the closest I've ever felt towards euphoria. I don't feel lonely. I'm never lonely. If one were to experience such a thing…it would indicate a want for company. But I don't need other people. I just need myself. I just am. I am me – and that's all I need_.

The only things wrong with that philosophy was that no one else seemed to accept it. No matter what you think or know, there will always be someone to contradict you; say you're wrong.

"_Just talk, Zexion! Goddammit, you act like the whole fucking world is against you_!"

"Ngh…!" The bowl fell into the sink, the clatter echoing in the house. Zexion's countenance was contorted in pain, and his heart suddenly felt heavy. No, that was the wrong word, the wrong expression entirely. He wasn't bleeding, so there was no way he could be in pain – his heart most certainly couldn't be in any harm. The teen quickly scrambled to think up facts to blow away his emotions.

_The heart cannot feel emotional pain. The heart is not some central organ that gives and receives emotion. It's all in the head – just your mind_. Zexion gripped the counter, his knuckles turning white. _Since it's just my head, I need to stop. Stop thinking about her. Something else_…!

_Ring_! _Ring_!

Zexion jumped, the phone's rings wailing like a siren in the empty house. Back to his senses, he stepped out of the kitchen to answer the phone. "Anderson residence, Zexion spea-"

"_Yes, yes, I know it's you, Zexion! You're the only one ever home, like, _ever!"

The teen resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. In his world, there was only one person he knew to be as irritating and chipper as Demyx. Unfortunately, this person also happened to be the co-manager of the store he worked at, and – as a miniscule employee – had to answer straight to her.

"Selphie, I would appreciate it if you didn't repeat words so closely together," he murmured, brushing back his bangs. "It makes me irritated to hear such errors in speech so early in the morning."

"_Whatever, you're always irritated, Zex_," Selphie pointed out with a bottom-lip-stuck-out voice. Another thing worth noting was that Selphie was the only one other than Demyx to _dare_ give him a nickname.

Zexion sighed, wishing he hadn't answered the call now. "Well, what is it you need?" he asked, perching the phone in between his cheek and shoulder as he crossed his arms. "That is, I am assuming you require some sort of assistance if you're contacting me?"

"_Yeah! See, we're going to be short-staffed today, which is never a good thing on a weekend_." Perking up, she said cheerfully, "_So I need you to come here and fill in_!"

You could practically visualize the phony heart at the end of that sentence…

"…Fine, expect me there within the hour."

"Yay! But hurry, pretty please? Thank you, Zex!"

Zexion twitched, a rather jock-worthy retort building up when he heard the audible click on the other line. The teen huffed, placing the phone back onto the cradle. It was going to be one of those Saturdays – the one in which persistent co-managers would take advantage of defenseless, solitude-craving employees. Much like a hawk stalking its snake prey, if you wanted to put it into an analogy. But why didn't Zexion fight back like a sane person, one may ask?

The teen remembered a certain day when a fellow worker had stood up to Selphie back in his sophomore year. It hadn't really ended well – the woman pulled out a seemingly innocent jump rope from the children's aisle and literally whipped the poor sap's ass out the store. And like any other foreboding recollection, it had an ominous ending – no one ever saw the guy again. And Zexion was a smart guy – he learned from others' mistakes, so he made sure never to cross the brunette without care.

I mean, that jump rope was more evil than it looked!

_

* * *

_

But Zexion just had to keep telling himself that he needed the money. That – being the eldest and only son – he had to help his father support the family. Although his kin would probably care less….

"Zex-i-oooon, aren't you finished putting price stickers on the tampons, yet?" Selphie asked, nearly causing the slate-haired teen to jump out of his skin.

Taking a collective deep breath, he asked, "Selphie, please inform me again as to why I'm pricing…_tampons_?" He lowered his voice to emphasize the dreaded female product. "If anyone was to come by…they might presume me a…a…"

"What, a pervert?" she supplied nonchalantly, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. Her emerald eyes looked up into empty space thoughtfully. "Hmm, in any case, we had to restock. I think it's because a lot of girls have their periods around this time of-"

"Alright, alright, you made your point!" Zexion exclaimed, waving his hands in a plea for her to cease. It so happened that right at that moment, a pair of girls – no doubt cheerleaders with their clothing, or lack of – walked by. And one look at the teen in his pitiful predicament had them in a fit of giggles. One even sneered in clear audio, "Fetish alert."

Now Zexion, for all his intelligence and rationality, also still had his pride. And with that comment the girl uttered, it had definitely been knocked down a couple of pegs. When they left, the teen rested his forehead on the cold metal of the shelf. "This is utter torture," he muttered in contempt.

Selphie rolled her eyes, but brought Zexion's head back up. "Aw, quit your angsting, Emo Kid," she ordered, handing him another package to price. "The sooner you get this done, the sooner you get to get away from the scary tampons!" She waved the package menacingly, her voice changing mildly ominous.

Zexion snatched the package away form her. "I'd like to point out for the _up-tenth_ time," he shook the price-stickering device at her threateningly, "that I am _not_ emo because of the style of my hair!"

"You know," the brunette started, ignoring his protest, "if you don't stop complaining, Zex, I'm going to have to partner you up with Marluxia. And we _all know_ no one wants to see two seemingly gay guys price tampons together."

"You and your goddamn stereotypes," he muttered as Selphie walked away. Reminding himself of what she said before, he hurried to finish up his task.

At least he was a senior this year. This was a year he'd been looking forward to for a long time. After June fourth, that was it; he was moving out – out of that house and away from that family. He already sent up his application to Never Was University and had gotten a letter back that said they were interested, but it all depended on his graduating status. But that was an easy prerequisite for Zexion to follow up on. Now all that was left was raising enough money to support himself. And he dreaded ever asking his _father_ for a loan – Zexion was a do-it-yourself kind of guy.

"..Finished," he declared through a relieved sigh. He began to gather the empty boxes when his headphones suddenly buzzed to life with a familiar voice in his ear.

"_Zexion, are you there_?"

Dear god, if it wasn't one thing, it was another. The teen put on his communication device and replied, "_Yes_, Selphie? Do you need some assistance _again_?"

"_Yes, I need some customer help, but I have my hands tied with the boss and a meeting_," she said. "_Have you finished doing the tampons, yet_?"

Zexion froze in horror as she said that, but what was even more stupefying were the audible snickers in the background – obviously the customers he was to assist. But now there was just no way in HELL he was doing that when Selphie had said such a _palpable_ sexual innuendo!

"I have…not," he lied, hoping the fib wasn't apparent.

Unfortunately, Selphie was more perceptive on lies than she was on suggestive comments. "_Alright_," she began with a voice that clearly said she had chosen to use her selective hearing, "_I expect you in aisle 5 in two minutes_." In her tone was the underlying venom known only to Zexion's trained ears.

He sighed, resigning, "…Fine." The click on the other line told him the brunette had hung up and was now waiting. The teen looked down at the empty boxes next to him and the price-sticker device still in his hand. He tossed his head back and groaned. How was he supposed to do all this in only two minutes?

"…Um, h-hey, you think you m-might need s-some help?" A hand brushed against his, making Zexion's mind fall back down to Earth. His light-blue eyes were suddenly met with ocean-deep ones, framed by blonde hair and plastic glasses.

"You," Zexion said, near close to yelping.

The girl was startled for a moment, snatching her hand back. "Ah, y-yes, me!" she exclaimed without making much sense. She waved her hands in an embarrassed gesture. "S-sorry, I d-didn't mean t-to eavesdrop or a-anything, I-I just…!"

Zexion scrutinized the blonde. She looked familiar for some odd reason – that hair color, those eyes and face… "You're Demyx's cousin," he finally concluded. He looked at her navy-blue employee uniform shirt, sweeping his eyes over the white embroidery of her name. "Yes, Roxanne, wasn't it?"

The girl looked up in mild surprise. "Y-yes." She licked her pink lips, calming down some. "I, um, heard the call Selphie gave you. M-Maybe I can help? You know maybe take these boxes out back for you?"

"You'd do that?" Rarely did someone ever _speak_ to Zexion willingly, much less offer him help.

Roxanne looked at him with confused eyes. "Um, yeah, why shouldn't I?" Then her expression lit up with a sudden clarity. "Oh geez, u-unless you don't want me to? Th-this is for listening in to your conversation, wasn't it? Sorry, I-I didn't mean anything bad by it!"

Zexion raised a brow at her weird actions. "Um, please stop overreacting. It was just a question," he said slowly.

She cringed slightly, like his words physically struck her. "Sorry," she apologized, a flush staining her cheeks.

Zexion took a deep breath. The girl was a lot like her cousin when she was crestfallen. Maybe it was because of that he decided to tone it down a bit. "And actually I would appreciate it greatly if you helped me with that endeavor." He looked at his watch and widened his eyes incredulously. "I apologize for leaving on such short and informal terms, but Selphie gave me a time limit."

"O-oh, s-sure!" Roxanne exclaimed. The queer expression she gave him was the last thing the teen remembered before dashing down the aisles, in search of a certain brunette.

* * *

Never let it be said that Zexion wasn't a merciful person.

On top the innuendo Selphie had made earlier and the excruciating time limit she gave him, the customers he was to assist had been none other than a pair of basketball jocks from school who had apparently took great pride in mocking previous stated sexual comment in various ways the whole time Zexion helped them. Ignoring that idiocy for even an even greater one, the so called 'help' they had needed was locating the aisle that sold – to the teen's horror but nevertheless was expected – condoms. Two _guys_ buying _condoms_.

Once again, never let it be said Zexion _wasn't_ a merciful person. Although the teen strongly surmised that it was their subtle way of saying, "Guess who is and isn't getting some tonight?" Whatever, like Zexion cared about the dominant species' mating habits.

"Oh, you're back," a voice commented beside him. Zexion looked over to see Demyx's cousin, Roxanne, approach him. She offered a tentative smile and asked, "Um, er…so…so how did the assistance thing go?"

The slate-haired teen frowned. It struck him as sort of odd that the blonde was still talking to him. They had worked together for awhile now, not that Zexion had been much aware of that until he learned she was a relative of Demyx's. Still, Zexion thought that if she insisted upon a conversation, he'd at least give her something – he knew a guy like him was hard to approach for a girl like her. "It was irritating, to put it nicely. Honestly, why waste our time hanging signs fifteen feet in the air that _clearly_ indicate what each aisle's products are if no one _uses_ them?"

Roxanne emitted a small chuckle. "Yeah, we should probably stop giving that, um, kind of assistance."

Zexion ignored her and continued walking.

And…Roxanne kept following.

Sighing deeply, Zexion turned to her and asked, "Is there…something you need?"

She blinked in surprise. "Wh-what?"

"I just have a notion that you won't leave unless I indulge you in some way."

Roxanne considered this, and then asked a bit randomly, "S-so what do you like to do?"

Zexion raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

Her cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. "Um…you know…what do enjoy doing?" she asked again, tentatively at the teen.

"…" Idly, Zexion checked his watch, doing anything to avoid answering any questions. "My shift is just about over. I'll see you another time, perhaps?"

Roxanne looked stunned at the sudden change of topic, but nodded. "Oh, um…y-yeah, I'll see you later."

Zexion gave a small wave and turned away. As he walked down the aisles, he couldn't help but recall the slight hurt and disappointment in Roxanne's voice. It was a tone he used to hear a lot back in middle school when his parents sent him and Fuu to counseling. A sense of distaste flooded through his body as he recalled the days he used to spend stuck in a too-white, too-organized room, sitting on an uncomfortable chair as a stranger's eyes would drill into his, scrutinizing him with such a calculating stare…

Zexion never liked it when someone gave him that look, like they were trying to figure him out, like they were _analyzing_ him. Questions about himself always got him unsettled and he'd avoid them. He couldn't help it; it was a natural defense mechanism of his.

_Protect yourself, got to put that impenetrable barrier around yourself_, he chanted inside his mind. _Don't let them see inside you. I'm the observer not the observed. Got to stay on top of them. If I don't, they'll take over, they'll descend me to their level; make me lesser. They're all stupid, stupid-_!

"_Stupid! It's all so stupid! And I'm not dealing with any of it anymore! If you can't change, Zexion, then I'll change things _for _you!"_

Why did everything feel so dizzy all of a sudden? Why did…the world feel so surreal? Zexion swayed, but quickly collected his proper footing and went into the employee locker room. Once he was alone, he took a deep breath and undressed from his work uniform.

_What's going on with me_? he wondered, still breaking out his daze. _Why am I remembering so many things…about my mother lately_? He walked out of the locker room in the jeans and black shirt he had on previously. He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling the warm skin radiate against his palm. _I wonder if my memories are...beginning to…plague me…physi….cal…ly_….

"Whoa, hold on there, Zexy!" A hand constricted around his arm suddenly, pulling him back from the pole he had been about to run into.

The teen blinked, his senses gradually returning to him. The hand on his arm spun him around. Oceanic eyes locked onto him, pink lips spread in a dubious smile. Demyx tilted his head to the side. "I was going to just let you keep walking, because I thought you'd step aside or something. I mean, you look more coordinate than that." He chuckled lightly, looking at Zexion teasingly. "But like the saying goes, right? 'Don't judge a book by its cover'?"

As nonchalant as the blonde was, the same couldn't be said for a quasi-dazed Zexion. Seeing Demyx there all of a sudden had easily caught him off-guard. "Are…are you _stalking_ me, Demyx Watera?" he demanded, eyes wide in incredulity. He looked down at the hand that was now holding his wrist. Zexion quickly wrenched his hand away, wondering why his skin felt hot where Demyx touched it.

The swimmer wasn't fazed, but sighed. "I help you out and the only thing I can get from you is if I'm stalking you? Didn't you pay attention in kindergarten? You're suppose to say, 'Hey thanks, Demyx, you really saved me from losing brain cells right there!'"

"Never will you catch me saying that," Zexion said, quickly amending the blonde's quip.

"I'm not stalking you either, FYI," Demyx added, an embarrassed blush tinting his cheeks.

"…Really, now?" the slate-haired teen asked in full disbelief. "So you mean to tell me that you just _happened_ to walk into this store in which I'm employed and that when I was about to bump into that pole, you just _happened_ to walk by and stop me?"

Demyx offered an up-beat smile. "Haven't you ever heard the saying about the Fates having a strange sense of humor?" he asked through a shrug.

"I don't believe in such ridiculous notions." Zexion turned heel and began to walk away but Demyx quickly caught up.

"Okay, _I'll_ be the bigger man here. Whatcha doing?" he inquired, putting his fingertips together and giving the teen an expectant look.

"Incidentally I was about to ask you the same thing," Zexion remarked, raising a brow. The automatic doors of the store opened as they approached the exit. Zexion took a deep breath upon stepping outside, the slight autumn breeze gently blowing his bangs into his face. Noting that Demyx was still following him, he gestured pointedly at the bus station on the other side of the street. "I'm going home, okay? I'm assuming that my company is no longer _required_, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Well, hey, why don't I take you home?" Demyx asked, smiling widely, looking like he thought up the most wonderful idea ever. Except it wasn't, and Zexion told him as much. Still, the swimmer wasn't daunted. "I was supposed to stay until my cousin Roxanne got off her shift, but I still have another hour. I got here early to check out the CDs, but whatever, I can do that whenever."

They were still walking side by side and almost at the end of the street now. Zexion looked over at the blonde when they were two feet from the road. The end of the street was farther away and it was easier to jaywalk when the bus stop was literally just ahead. "You can go now," the teen said insistently, looking behind at the store. "Really, I can just use the public transportation."

"Dude, there are crazy people on the bus. One time I was riding on one back in my freshman year and there was this old guy just talking on and on. I thought maybe he had a phone or a Blue Tooth but the guy was just having this conversation with someone who wasn't even _there_. Plus, the buses _smell_," Demyx added, wrinkling his nose in emphasis.

"Good-_bye_, Demyx Watera," Zexion repeated, waving his hand tersely. He turned and looked at the street before him. The cars were whizzing by, the wind they left behind blowing through his skin as they tore through the air. Zexion's heart sped faster, something keeping him in place even though inside he wanted to run far away from the dangerous road.

Oh, this was the part of the day Zexion _hated_ – crossing the damn street, especially on the weekend where there were more people about. It really shouldn't be a big deal, so he needed to stop acting like a child! The teen swallowed his fear – when had he recognized his feeling a fear? – and just as he took another step towards the street…

Another car sped by, the engine roaring and the bass of the music within vibrating under Zexion's skin as the backing wind nearly swayed him towards the raging car. Zexion gasped and backed up, his heart thudding, his mind reeling… His back met something warm and soft, something human. Demyx. The teen looked up at the swimmer. "You're still here?" he asked breathlessly, meaning to sound frustrated, but it came out as a little abashed.

"Good thing I still am. You look traumatized," the blonde pointed out, oceanic eyes scrutinizing Zexion's face. "You okay? It's like you saw a ghost or something." He looked off at the cars going by and then back at the slate-haired teen's countenance. "You don't like crossing the street, do you? The way you're acting…it's like you're scared to," he said, with a note of amusement.

Zexion scowled at the swimmer's expression and moved beside him, facing away from the road. "Why do you look so complacent?" he murmured, something hot tinting over his skin. He realized he was blushing and quickly shifted his bangs to better cover his face.

Demyx chuckled and leaned into the slate-haired teen's face. "I just never pegged you to be afraid of something before. You usually act so superior." Zexion glanced at the small grin on the blonde's face. "It's a bit weird, like you're actually human."

"You never believed me to be human before?"

"Haha, not like that. Don't take it so literally."

"…" Zexion wrapped his arms around himself. He was reminded of that same day he spoke to Demyx for the first time, when he heard the blonde's laugh ringing in his ears so pleasantly. Why? Why did Demyx intrigue him so much even though he was _supposed_ to be unappealing? Why did he continue being this queer mystery even though Zexion was _supposed_ to have him already figured out? It made no sense. "My…my fifteenth year, I was…walking to my bus stop…"

"Huh?" Shoes scratched against the cement as Demyx stepped closer. Zexion could feel warmth and…he smelled something unfamiliar to his senses… Was Demyx standing so close?

Zexion rubbed his hands against his arms, consciously gliding over and over the smooth scars on his left forearm. "I was walking to my bus stop…" His mind was a little short in bringing up all of the memory. All he remembered was the darkness of the dawn, the street lamps bathing the roads in orange. And then… "The bus pulled up just as I arrived across the street. I ran to cross but then a car came. I hadn't noticed it, so preoccupied with catching the bus…"

He chanced looking up, and saw Demyx's eyes staring at him in surprise, his lips in a thin line – he knew what happened next. Zexion pulled up his sleeve, revealing the scars along his left forearm. "The first impact I remember was the edge of the hood cutting into my arm – it was always ajar because it was broken, or so I was told later. I was…too short to fall onto the car, and instead I landed onto the street. The driver hadn't noticed – it happened too fast…but next thing I remember was…everyone at my stop crowding over me."

Oh yeah, he remembered that part. People he hadn't even met shouting his name, bending over him. He hadn't been able to make out the faces in the darkness of the dawning sky. He hadn't even felt the blood that had been escaping through the back of his head. He had, though, felt the humid morning air sting the cuts along his shoulder and forearm. His eyes had been overflowing with tears before he had known it, his screams of pain were ripping through the had-been quiet air.

Then it had been just a rush of movement and pain and siren wails and white walls, white coats, white sheets… "I was hospitalized for a while, but eventually there was nothing left but scars …" He pushed down his sleeve and felt over his clothed torso. "Bloody bruises over my chest, one of my ribs had cracked…nearly my whole left side had been useless to me for weeks."

Demyx tentatively traced over the spots Zexion had, the delicate brushes of his fingertips sending the teen's body into some frenzy. Quickly, Zexion pulled away, and the swimmer snapped his hand back. "S-sorry, man," he apologized, but out of pity or for his actions Zexion wasn't sure. Either way, he didn't want to speculate.

Zexion looked over at the street behind him and almost glared at the passing cars. "It doesn't matter how many times I try to tell myself that it's over and done with… I'm still dragged back to that day every time… And I resent it." Fear is how they get into you. Fear is how they prod you apart, trying to evaluate more and more…!

Demyx tilted his head to the side, observing the teen silently. "Well, I don't think you can help that. Even if you try to set your mind to forget, your body…" He swept his eyes over Zexion's left side, "…will always remember. Or so my mom told me."

"…"

The swimmer offered a smile and gave a backwards nod toward the parking lot. "Listen, not to seem like I'm manipulating your fears, but tell me: does it sound better to wait to cross the street or to come with me and I'll take you home?"

Zexion set his lips in a thin line and murmured, "You don't know where I live."

Demyx held up his hands. "Well, by _all_ means, Zexy, tell me. Unless you _want _me to leave you here?"

"It'd be an inconvenience to you," the slate-haired teen argued feebly.

Demyx took it as submission and grabbed Zexion's wrist, very near dragging him away from the street. "Not at all! C'mon, my car's over this way. You don't live far, do you?"

"No…an acquaintance of mine takes me to school, though…"

The blonde sighed, looking like he was going to chastise the teen. "Zexy, can't you even call someone your friend?"

_Haven't we gone through this before?_ "...You bring up the most awful conversations…" Zexion said dryly. "And you ask the most stupid questions."

"Incidentally, I think you give the stupidest answers," Demyx countered with a smirk. A moment later, the teen found himself inside the swimmer's car. The first thing he noted was that, just like Demyx's room, the blonde's car was horribly unkempt. Demyx chuckled after they settled into their seats. "Um, sorry about this. You just always seem to catch me at my, er, messiest."

Zexion didn't say anything, merely clicking his seatbelt into place as the blonde spoke. He frowned slightly afterwards. There was something about the scent of the vehicle...it was something vaguely familiar - a mixture of chlorine and citrus and an unknown frangrance. The teen felt an odd stirring within him when he realized it was Demyx's scent. He remembered smelling it a few minutes ago when the swimmer had leaned close to him. He couldn't recall if he had noticed it when he had gone over to Demyx's house. Zexion leaned back in his seat and inaudibly inhaled the scent as if it were a breath of fresh air.

"Alright then, Zexy, what's the course?" Demyx asked, oblivious to the slate-haired teen's musings.

Zexion quickly caught himself and answered tersely, "Um, Wilcrest Drive, the Meadowglen apartment complex."

Demyx nodded in understanding as he pulled put of the parking lot. "Hey, you don't live far from me at all!"

"Don't get any ideas," Zexion quickly dead-panned. "Otherwise you might just find you tutoring yourself."

The swimmer scoffed, turning the wheel to get onto the main street. "Zexy, you love me way too much to give me up that easily," he said confidently. His aquamarine eyes shifted briefly over the slate-haired teen's form. "I can tell you can't live without me."

"Is this a special occasion or is exaggerating just a favorite past-time of yours?"

Demyx shivered. "I think I actually got some frostbite from that cold comeback..."

Zexion stared blankly ahead. "...For the up-tenth time, it's 'Zexion'. Nothing more, nothing less." Somehow he knew pointing this out was completely futile, but for once, he just didn't want to be silent. He had some weird urge to keep some sort of conversation with the blonde, even though his social skills were about the equivlant of a rock.

Demyx hummed in passive disagreement. When they approached a red light, he took out a CD holder and picked one out, putting it into the CD slot. "So, Zexy, do you listen to much music? I hope you like Linkin Park."

The slate-haired teen threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Did the blonde in the world choose to use their selective hearing when he spoke? "…Whatever, I won't even bother," he murmured.

Demyx chuckled as he pressed 'Play'. "Does this mean I can call you that without fear of being killed with your death-glares?" he asked hopefully, although there was that ever-present teasing in his voice. "Hmm, _Zexy_?"

Heavy electric beats suddenly sounded around them, then a pulsing bass that preluded the singer's verse,

"_Why does it feel like night today?_  
_Something in here's not right today._  
_Why am I so uptight today?_  
_Paranoia's all I got left_..."

Zexion sighed, futily tossing back his long bangs. "I think you were born just for the sole purpose of tormenting me, Demyx."

The swimmer smiled proudly. "You mean torment you with my irresistable looks?" he smirked. "I think I fulfill my role quite well, don't you?" He looked over at the slate-haired teen, mocking a sultry expression.

There was a moment when their eyes had locked into a stare, and Zexion almost forgot how to properly function. Quickly, he looked away before Demyx began to tease him again. "...Whatever." He shifted his light-blue eyes outside, trying to focus on the blurring streets, the music, anything to keep himself from wondering why he always received these odd sensations when he was around the blonde. It was something to familiar, that it hurt him to even think about it. But it was because he closed the lid that tightly.

"_Everybody has a face that they hold inside_  
_A face that awakes when I close my eyes_  
_A face watches every time they lie_  
_A face that laughs every time they fall_..."

He had created a spot that he concealed all his emotions and memories in, and vowed never to have recollections of them again. By keeping this lid down, he was protecting himself. Protecting himself against the world, against stupid people.

Demyx tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, banging his head along with the song, lip-synching the verses. Zexion distantly wondered if the blonde was in a band or something. He had that guitar-looking thing in his room and he was always tapping or singing something. Maybe one day he'd ask, just to throw something out there.

Zexion looked back out the window, feeling the heavy beats of the songs vibrate under his chest. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, and what was even more surprising to him was that he wasn't annoyed by the music. He didn't listen to alot of it, considering he was a man of silence. There were those occasions when some people had their iPods and their phones on too loud during free times, but other than that, Zexion didn't really listen to music at his leisure. Music seemed like senseless noise produced by people who had nothing else going on for them. Listening to Demyx's music, he wished he had given the subject more of a chance.

After a while, Demyx began to audibly sing along and even Zexion found himself tapping his fingers to the beat, repeating the choruses in his mind because it'd be too weird to sing them out loud.

"_You like to think you're never wrong_  
_(You live what you've learned)_  
_You have to act like you're someone_  
_(You live what you've learned)_  
_You want someone to hurt like you_  
_(You live what you've learned)_  
_You want to share what you have been through_  
_(You live what you've learned_)..."

Demyx just _had _to be in a band, otherwise it was such a waste of a great voice he had. Zexion never would've figured out there were so many...likable qualities about the blonde. He never would've figured out he'd meet such an unassuming person. He began to wonder what else he didn't know about Demyx. _How is it I've never figured out this much about him before? I thought I knew everything about people like him. Did I...miscalculate? He's doing things I've never expected him to do, like...helping me. He could've left me there, but he didn't. How many other jocks would do that?_

"Ah, here we go. This is your complex, right?"

Zexion was snapped from his thoughts when the blonde spoke. He looked up and saw the familiar black rooftops of the apartments. "Yes, you can just turn right here. I live not too far from the main office." He expected Demyx to just pull up and wait for him to get out, but the teen was surprised once more when the swimmer parked and turned off the engine.

"Alright, I'll walk you up to your door," he stated more than offered.

"Wh-what?" Zexion turned to the blonde, but before he could protest, Demyx had closed his door and was waiting outside. Zexion scrambled out of his door and out onto the lot. "H-hold on, I thought I told you..."

"Hey, you want to lead the way or am I going to have to start taking guesses?" At Zexion's stunned look, the swimmer smirked and went on ahead. After about two minutes of heading to several wrong doors, the slate-haired teen sighed in exasperation and half-bailed, half-led the way towards his apartment.

At the door, Zexion's curiosity peaked, and he found himself asking, "Why did you decide to help me to earlier?"

Demyx looked over at the teen. "Hmm?" Scoffing, he said, "C'mon, Zexy, do you really need to ask a question like that?"

The teen fished his keys out of his pocket and murmured, "I suppose it was a rather mindless inquiry..." And really, he hadn't known what he had expected Demyx to say anyway. 'Because I'm your friend,' or 'Because I couldn't leave you there like that?' After he locked the door, he began to shoo the blonde away when a hand took his wrist. Out of nowhere Zexion's heart nearly shot out his skin.

Demyx gazed at him with...affection? "Because I really wanted to do something nice for you."

Zexion widened his eyes. Well...he hadn't thought of that one, and yet it was as...equally odd. It was a little unnerving, especially since that look and those words were so... "Demyx?" the teen began slowly.

"What's up?" the blonde replied softly, leaning closer to the shorter male.

"Are you...a homosexual?"

THUD! Zexion looked in shock as Demyx's face suddenly connected to the still-closed door. Before he could even ask why in the hell he did that, the swimmer slowly turned his head and asked incredulously, "_WHAT_?" His face was reddening, but it was hard to determine whether it was from the impact or if it was a blush of embarrassment.

"You just seem a little too taken to touch me constantly. I just wonder if you do this with all males," Zexion explained, yanking Demyx up with the back of the blonde's collar. "Not to mention you blush rather easily and your overall appearance...leads me to that conclusion. Then again, you might always be this flamboyant."

"I...I see..." the swimmer rasped, rubbing his nose.

Zexion had to suppress a laugh at the sight. "My words aren't to be taken to heart," he remarked through a smirk. "'Don't take it literally,' I think your words were?"

"Wha-what? Were..." He narrowed his eyes at the teen. "Were you teasing me?"

The cornersof Zexion's lips twitched upward. "Perhaps," he replied nonchalantly. Demyx pouted then, his cheeks coloring a bit. Aqua eyes glinting indignantly and arms crossed…the image was just so cute, and Zexion immediately reproached himself for thinking it. He quickly surmised it wasn't a good idea to stare directly into Demyx's eyes for long; it only brought a strange, transfixed spell to overcome him. He wiped the forming smile on in face and cleared his throat.

"In…any case, you need to be going, correct?" he asked, looking down. Demyx looked at him in mild surprise, maybe because he sensed how strange Zexion was acting all of a sudden - in this case, making a suggestion without being a smartass. Nevertheless, he check his watch and widened his eyes.

"Ohmygod! You're so right! Well, see you later then, Zexy!" He dashed down the stairs, waving profusely when he got to the bottom. The slate-haired teen decided to offer a small wave in return. Once Demyx left, he felt his face turn hot, and he let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding.

* * *

When Zexion went to work again that Monday afterschool, he went up to Roxanne, who was running the cashier. When she finally had a spare moment, he murmured, "Reading."

"H-huh?"

He looked her in the eyes and repeated, louder this time, "I like reading, chiefly Charles Dickens. And...I also enjoy writing in my leisure." At her wide-eyed stare, he shuffled his feet idly and looked away. "You asked what I liked to do, so...there's the answer."

Roxanne blinked, then a small smile came across her face. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I asked you and you... Um, c-cool. That's, er, cool."

Zexion ran a hand through his slate locks. "You're Demyx's cousin," he stated rather than inquired. "T-tell me... What does..." Dammit, there it was again! That same uncontrollable blush crawling over his face!

The blonde girl peered at him curiously. "What about him?"

_What about him indeed?_ Zexion wondered. _I'm not supposed to be this curious about him_... Trying to calm himself, he quickly muttered, "Nevermind," and left.

* * *

**Xelruna: **I'll have you know now, this is the most time I've ever spent on a single chapter. Right now I'm trying to figure out if it was a good or bad thing...:/ I REALLY hope it came out alright, though. I feel like I could've done a whole lot better but there was just this barrier and its name was this chapter. I think it got better towards the end... I typed out most of the chapter, but there had been only snippets I liked. I was going to keep it as it was, but I realized being an author was about sacrifices. So I deleted about half the chapter and started from scratch.

But I'll be back in shape next chapter, honest!

Reviews make me happy and make me believe I actually have a knack for writing this fic!

PS, Sorry for this being late, Jake :P


	6. Opinion: You Can Gaze Into a Soul

**A/N: **I tried to finish this before I left to go to my brother's house. So I'm scrambling to type the ending right now (I never type a whole chapter in one setting). I hope you like this and more importantly, I hope you don't think the ending is fail since it was rushed -sweatdrop- other than that, I don't have much to report to you guys :/

Because i'm publishing this on her birthday, I want to dedicate this chapter to LISA (my bff in the whole world; her account is** sSophisticateds **if anyone wants to read her fics)!!! Why? Because let's face it, Lis, you're a lot like Zexion. You need a Demyx. -glomps you- I love you and hope you have a great birthday! :3

Enjoy.

_**Opinion: You Can Gaze Into a Soul**_

"Why does your sister seem down lately, Zexion?"

It was one of those rare Monday mornings in which Zexion's father was still home even though it was after dawn. Fuu, more than likely taking after their father, was an early riser but always carried that ominous air about her. She had just gotten through getting ready for school and had come downstairs probably thinking the place was deserted. Upon seeing her father, her nose scrunched in what appeared to be disgust and stormed out of the house, complete with a resonating door slam.

Zexion looked up from his book - _Being _by Kevin Brooks for the curious - and stared incredulously at his father. Fuu had been down _lately_? Try the past few _years_. "I wouldn't know," he admitted flatly. "Her presence in this house is as scarce as yours."

"Do you mean she's been out late?" his dad asked, completely missing the true meaning of Zexion's words. He shook his head and ran a hand through his grey-streaked hair. It used to be the same color as his son's, but age and stress had quickly turned it to the color of bluish ash.

Zexion didn't answer, instead placing a bookmark into the novel and excusing himself from the breakfast table. Honestly, he couldn't believe his father's comments. It couldn't be possible for a person to be any more _dense_. And to think his parents used to wonder why the therapy hadn't worked - because no one had bothered to actually _listen_.

As the teen was fixing up his tie, his dad came up to him doing the exact same thing. "I was a bit late today. But I had to talk to your uncle. He's coming over this weekend and staying for about two weeks." His father's eyes, as blue-gray as his hair, bore onto him expectantly.

The stare was no stranger to Zexion. It was something the two had practiced during therapy. The doctor had told him that communication was a key part of a relationship. "_Take an interest in your parents' conversations, even if they aren't exciting,_" she had said. "_You can't expect anyone to have an interest in you if you don't have an interest in them."_

Zexion really had to muse over how the hell that woman got a degree in therapy.

In any case, he decided to throw his dad a bone and droned, "Really? What for?"

Zexion's father quirked a smile and said, "Well apparently he's been appointed chief of police, but he had to move in order to take the promotion." He smoothed his shirt over and checked himself in the mirror. "He needs to find a permanent place to stay, and until he does I've agreed that he can stay here. Do you think Fuujin will be okay with that?"

Fuu won't give a rat's ass as long as she doesn't have to share her room.

Zexion shrugged, the neutral answer. "I'm leaving," he murmured, gathering his binder and hugging it to his chest as he opened the door and got out of the house. The bus stop wasn't far, but Zexion decided to walk and read at the same time. Doing so over the years enhanced his peripheral vision greatly. Moreover, he didn't even have to cross any streets to get to the stop, which was a huge plus.

Zexion opened his book and resumed where he had been interrupted. Robert had just escaped from the hotel and was on the bus, still on the run from Ryan. Now Robert was looking at the passersby with a new light.

"_They all seemed distant to me now," _the teen read._ "Different. Disconnected. Unrelated. They weren't the same as me anymore. I wasn't the same as them. I was here, they were there. And the world out there had become something else. It was an alien territory now, a place where I didn't belong_."

'An alien territory'. Although it was based on different circumstances, Zexion could definitely empathize with Robert. The world had always seemed so different from him, and without realizing it, the teen would try to mold himself into someone else's ideals. He tried to get into sports and cracking jokes like other boys his age had. He tried to look at girls the same way they did, he tried to be open-hearted.

_But I'm not any of those things. I can't do any of it_. It wasn't until middle school that Zexion realized he couldn't do it anymore. It was way too hard to put up this façade.

When the boys in his P.E. class asked if he wanted to shoot baskets, he ignored them and read in a corner. When they were laughing during lunch, they didn't bother to try to clue the slate-haired teen anymore. If a girl with plush lips and breasts batted her eyelashes at him, he only adverted his gaze - but from boredom rather than embarrassment.

His parents thought he had shut down. But he hadn't. He was just burying his real self even deeper - whoever his 'real' self was.

Zexion read on. "_I wasn't sure of anything_."

If Zexion believed in coincidences, this was where he would think, _Funny, so am I_.

But he didn't, and instead advised Robert to purchase an encyclopedia. You can be sure of facts.

* * *

"You've been spending a lot of time with Demyx Watera lately," Lexaeus said that day during lunch. "I heard it was because you're tutoring him."

Zexion frowned and looked inquiringly at the auburn-haired boy. "And where on Earth did you hear that?" he asked. He could've sworn the whole tutoring was a secret, or at least one he kept. Then the answer hit him at the same time Lexaeus replied, "Demyx seemed to make that a point during Phys Ed one day."

Of course. The blonde couldn't be trusted to keep his mouth shut for anything… "I didn't realize the two of you had class together."

"Neither did I, to tell the truth. He just came up to me the other day and asked if I was your friend. He noticed we sat together during lunch. Does he have it at the same time we do?"

"Unfortunately…" Zexion murmured. The slate-haired teen had made a point a few weeks ago how he never wanted Demyx to sit with him during lunch - or vise versa. He looked pointedly at a table near the center of the cafeteria. "He usually sits with other members of the swim team over there."

Before the teen could even get back to the book her had been previously reading, Lexaeus remarked suddenly, "…Isn't that him coming towards us?"

"_What_?!" Zexion didn't even look up when he all of a sudden felt arms constrict around him. Then he was pulled onto a warm body, making his skin automatically catch on fire. "D-Demyx?!"

"Hey, Zexy!" the swimmer returned energetically, his arms tightening their hold. Zexion's face was in the crook of Demyx's neck, making him blush hotly.

"D-Demyx! Get off of me! This is inappropriate!" he exclaimed, pushing himself away. Dammit, Demyx was touching him in _public_! Touching him where everyone in the cafeteria could see them - if they ever cared to notice… But wondering eyes could spot the awkward situation! When the blonde was finally off of him and he could properly breathe, he asked, "Has it occurred to you that we're in _school_?"

"Well, yeah…but what does that have to do with anything?"

"Read the Student Handbook once in a blue moon!" Zexion exclaimed. "Public display of affection is strictly prohibited."

Demyx frowned, but then cracked a smile, which finally evolved to laughter. "Dude, you do realize we're in _high school _right? PDA is a daily happening here." He scrutinized the slate-haired teen and remarked, "Aw, you don't get enough love, Zexy. You need to get hugged more often - maybe it'll soften you up."

The notion was enough for Zexion to pop a blood vessel. He was so repelled and stunned by the statement that he could only choke out broken fragments of sentences, "Demyx… No, I will never… Don't you ever dare… Touch me again and you'll…"

"Hey, and Lexy's here, too!" All at once Demyx was now focused on the auburn-haired boy next to Zexion. And…wait, '_Lexy'_?!

"Must you give your ridiculous nicknames to everyone?" Surely the blonde couldn't be that idiotic… He looked over at Lexaeus, who was giving him a look that said both 'help me' and 'just leave it'. Shaking his head, Zexion asked, "Do you've any business here? I thought I told you to leave me alone during lunch period."

Demyx sat down right next to Zexion and smiled - though it was safe to always assume Demyx always had a smile, so Zexion would just stop mentioning it. "You may have, but I just used my selective hearing," he admitted. "It's so boring without you to talk to."

_Hewantstotalkwithme_-? Okay, ignoring the slate-haired teen's thoughts - which seemed to be greatly uncontrollable around the swimmer… "I can't see what you'd stand to gain from conversing with me," he droned. "I think it's very idiotic of you to even _think _you'd hold some meaningful conversation with me. It's like you don't know me at all."

"Things like this wouldn't be a problem if you opened up more," Demyx pointed out. "Hey, Lexaeus, does Zexion ever open up to you?"

The teen looked over at the larger boy expectantly. Lexaeus looked uncomfortable now that he was on spotlight, but he managed to murmur, "Erm…not especially." before pretending to be engrossed in his spaghetti.

Zexion blinked in surprise, but didn't have long to muse before Demyx said, "See? You got to talk more. C'mon, start with me - start with me and Lexy."

The teen frowned, the words _annoying _him for some odd reason. They…reminded him of what people have been trying to shove down his throat for years - open up, talk, be someone, mold yourself into someone who you're not. It annoyed him and Zexion impulsively found himself bristling. He stared at Demyx for a long time, and when the blonde finally registered Zexion's gaze to be a glare, he blinked in surprise.

"Uh, did I say something wrong?"

"Don't talk - you're obnoxious."

Demyx held up his hands to signal surrender. "H-hey, don't glare at me like that. Geez, if looks could kill…"

"I'd have you dead, rest assured."

The blonde titled his head to the side and looked over at Lexaeus. "Tell me, does he give threats like this often?"

The auburn-haired boy nearly cracked a smile. "Others are usually more wary around Zexion," he remarked lightly.

"Don't indulge him, Lexaeus," the slate-haired teen snapped softly. "He's too dense to be observant enough to know when he has a very threatening force near him."

"You know, your mouth is more venomous than your actual actions," Demyx noted, raising a brow. He smirked and said, "One of these days, are you ever going to follow up on your threats? I'd love to see little Zexy in action." His voice dripped with mock sweetness and his eyes shone teasingly.

"Are you offering yourself?" Zexion asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, trust me, I'd love to offer myself, but I don't think we're talking about the same thing," Demyx laughed.

The slate-haired teen almost didn't realize what that meant, but then clarity struck him and he found himself blushing again. Dammit, dammit, why did the blonde have to say such STUPID things?! Zexion began to wonder if the swimmer actually was homosexual, but if he was, he should learn that there were frickin' _boundaries! _

"…You're a moron."

"And you're a dog that has a worse bark than bite."

"I'll maim you, you little-"

"Please do, I'm begging you."

"Dammit, Demyx, why is there always a game with you?!"

"Because you're always willing to play, Zexy," the blonde replied with a chuckle. He laced his fingers under his chin and smiled sweetly.

Zexion blanched. There was something like a chuckle next to him and the slate-haired teen was shocked to realize it had been emitted form Lexaeus. That was really odd, considering the auburn-haired boy usually never cracked a smile; never laughed. "You...think this amusing, Lexaeus?" the teen asked tentatively.

Lexaeus realized that eyes were on him now and he covered his grin with his mouth. "No, it's, ahem, just that... Pfft! Haha..."

Demyx looked at him with interest before laughing himself, making Zexion feel even more uncomfortable. Oh, great, now he was surrounded by idiots - laughing idiots. Lexaeus caught the slate-haired teen's look and quickly shut himself up. "Heh, my, um, apologies. It's just...the way you two argue...its very amusing."

Leering at the auburn-haired boy, Zexion hissed, "You realize you're descending down to his level?"

Demyx scoffed. "Yeah, you do need to get hugged more. There's no way a sane person would protest _laughter_. I mean, there are buzz-kills...and then there's _you_, Zexy." He prodded the teen's pale wrist with a single finger.

The slate-haired teen twitched. "I should like to think I'm more sane than you!" he exclaimed, withdrawing his wrist (there was that warm feeling again...). Shaking his head, he added, "And I also believe I informed you that I do not enjoy your displays of affection. Or any of your affection at all!"

"...So you don't like it when I hug you?" Demyx asked slowly. The tone was a little odd. It told Zexion that either the swimmer was being incredibly stupid and was missing the point entirely.

"No. I don't like being touched at all."

"Someone's going to remain a virgin forever..." the blonde murmured through a smirk.

"Idiot! Imbecile! A complete and utter ignoramus!" Zexion exclaimed with clenched fists and a red face. "Why do you insist on keeping up this lunacy?"

"Why do you insist on all your name-calling to begin with 'I'?" Demyx inquired.

"...You really can't have been born this stupid."

"How would I know? My memory doesn't stretch back that far!" the blonde cried with a straight face. And it was that serious expression that caused any previous notions Zexion ever had of Demyx possessing intelligence dashed away.

_Moron...he's a moron. Could it be that I _didn't _miscalculate after all and he _is _beyond help?_ the teen thought. His wonderings trailed back to the day Demyx had helped him, when he had been surrounded by Demyx's scent and voice. Was that really the boy who was in front of him now? _And to think, I almost dared to get to know him better! I was a bigger fool than he! I can't believe I almost...and I..._

Zexion then came to a harsh conclusion for all of his meaningless thoughts and growing insanity_: It's. All. His. Fault. _

"Oh crap, did I break him or something?" the swimmer asked Lexaeus when Zexion buried his face in his hands, mumbling incoherently and quite furiously, like he was placing a curse on someone - maybe even himself.

The auburn-haired boy shrugged. "If you did, you'll have many classmates musing over how the hell you did it."

* * *

Zexion's binder was settled on his lap with loose-leaf paper and an open textbook littered around him. He was sitting on the floor with his back against a soft, albeit unkempt bed. On the bed, on top of the cerulean sheets and plaid, blue blankets, lay Demyx with his eyes closed and humming a tune. He was singing some sort of song, but Zexion didn't care enough to ask because he was too busy being just a _lit_-tle cheesed off.

"Demyx," he said slowly. He turned and glared at the procrastinating blonde.

Eyelids fluttered open and aqua irises landed on the slate-haired teen's form. "'Sup, Zexy?"

"When you told me you wanted me to come over, I _assumed _you were referring to the tutoring," he began with a low, daunting voice. Shaking his head slightly, he said, "But I can see that was my own fault for assuming with you."

"Hey, man, haven't you ever heard that saying about assuming?" Demyx asked. At the slate-haired teen's blank look, he explained, "Yeah, it's 'don't make an ass of u and me.' Get it? Ah, that girl Maxi Valentine told me that one."

"...If only you remembered the rules to solving logarithmic equations as well as you recall meaningless wordplays," Zexion droned.

Demyx looked at the teen for a long time, a span in which Zexion was stuck in choosing whether or not to break the silence. Finally, something like sadness crossed the blonde's countenance, and he asked quietly, "Dude, why do you have to be like that? You don't have to be such a dick all the time. I mean, I don't act this way on accident. Well, I kinda do, but... I just keep hoping some of this stupid stuff will impress you; get you to smile, maybe."

Zexion looked away, frowning. "And why on Earth would you hope for something so ridiculous?"

A small smile formed over the swimmer's pink lips. "I like it when you smile. It's...nice."

The teen widened his eyes in disbelief, snapping his head back up to face the blonde. His first impulse was to retort with something witty like he always did, but...that expression in Demyx's eyes...an expression he couldn't read...that's what was stopping him from being himself. It was that expression that had him feeling like time was slowing and that he was a blind idiot for never considering Demyx's feelings before.

"You mean to say you act stupid to amuse me in some way?" Zexion asked slowly.

Demyx chuckled awkwardly. "Well, it sounds pretty dumb when you put it that way," he said, the tips of his ears turning a bright scarlet. "But, that's what it is, yeah. I act that way because I can't help myself. I mean, people laugh at stupid things, right? So begins my reasoning, anyway..."

Zexion thought this over. So Demyx just _acted _like a moron? Well, that was...slightly comforting. But there was still something that bothered the teen, and that was why he was worth such a big deal anyway. He'd seen people - boys and girls alike - act odd like Demyx was, but they usually did it for a reason. The reason they all had in common was that they were all attracted to the person they were trying to, as Demyx stated, 'impress.'

Some sort of feeling - a good kind of feeling - flooded through his body all of a sudden, swelling his heart. Zexion felt like he could do just about anything then, he could say anything. And all that processed through his mind were jumbled words that refused to connect into some sort of conclusion.

Zexion cleared his throat, for the first time in his life willing his mind to shut down before all the dots connected. "My smile is a trivial thing and a rare occurrence – too much so to be 'nice.' I have no idea why you feel you have something to gain from all this. It's stupid. You're stupid."

Demyx chuckled lightly, seemingly unfazed. "You have no one to blame but yourself for that. You're supposed to be making me smarter, right? Well, if you think I'm stupid, you must obviously be failing your duties." At the slate-haired teen's shocked look, Demyx flashed his teeth triumphantly. "Got you."

"F-for once!" Zexion stammered, just to keep up his firm persona.

"Not once!" Demyx protested. The pair didn't have a chance to say more though, because Iri opened the door then, wiping her hands on a waist-apron.

"Hey, I thought you guys would want something to eat," she said with a cheery smile. "You know, a break from the studying."

WHAT studying? Zexion wondered furiously, giving Demyx a knowing glare. The blonde ignored it by placing his hands on both sides of Zexion's head and turning it away from him. "H-hey-!"

"Sure! That's cool, right, Zexy?" he asked, smiling oh-so-not-innocently. The slate-haired teen narrowed his eyes; saw Demyx wasn't going to give him an inch, and sighed in resignation, nodding.

Iri grinned, seemingly pleased by the answer. "I thought y'all would agree, so I fixed up some finger-sandwiches and chips. They're ready on the counter if either of you would like some." Her light-green eyes looked down at Zexion and she kindly asked, "Are sandwiches and chips okay, sweetie? You don't want something different?"

"Eh?" Zexion shook his head, still not used to how benign Demyx's mother was. "No, they're fine, ma'am. Thank you."

"No problem! But really, Zexion, its Iri. _Iri_," she insisted with a small grin. "Well, come and get them!" She walked away and Demyx immediately jolted up.

"C'mon, let's go eat!" he declared, pumping a fist in the air with a sense of triumph. Not that Demyx never _didn't_ act like there wasn't something to celebrate…

"Will you do anything to keep from the two of us actually studying productively?" Zexion inquired, standing up as well.

"I'd like to prolong the torture as long as possible, thank you." The blonde went over to the door, stopped, and then bowed, seemingly to Zexion. "Ladies first."

The slate-haired teen rolled his eyes, pretending the statement didn't faze him. "Is this just another one of your stupid antics?" He pulled the blonde back up into an upright position and huffed, "It isn't working, you know."

"I'll get you to smile one of these days, I just know it," Demyx promised, following Zexion downstairs.

"Do you really believe that to be a fact? Mere hopes aren't going to get you anywhere," the shorter male informed in a low voice. "Clinging to a notion never saved anyone."

The swimmer looked down at the slate-haired boy, something like wonder in his oceanic eyes. Zexion saw from the corner of his eyes the look Demyx had on his face; he looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure if it should be a sarcastic statement, or an actual inquiry. Finally, he just decided on turning his face away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Didn't know you could be so pessimistic, Zexy," he murmured.

"Yes, most facts are often on the down side of things."

Iri was already in the kitchen when the two boys entered it. She placed a plate full of finger-sandwiches and a pile of chips before them. "Here you go. I hope you enjoy them," she said. Flipping her blond hair over her shoulder, she turned and opened the refrigerator behind her. "I'm sorry that we don't have much of a variety of beverages to choose from. There's milk, cranberry juice and bottled water. What would you like, Zexion?"

"Um, bottled water is fine," he replied quietly, slowly settling himself onto one of the barstools in front of the counter.

"Hey, what about me?" Demyx said, pouting slightly. "I want some milk."

"You can get it yourself, honey," Iri said with a straight face, grabbing a bottle of water and gently placing it beside Zexion's plate. She offered the teen an upbeat smile. "There you go, sweetie. Enjoy."

"I think it a little funny you're hospitable to everyone but your own son," the swimmer said, getting up and opening a cupboard full of glasses and plates. "By the way, Ma, Dad wanted you to know he's working an hour later again."

Iri scoffed, but it lacked resentment; it was more like a small sigh. "I swear, he believes that office is his second home… Okay, then. I'll be in my room if either of you need me."

When she disappeared upstairs, Zexion looked at Demyx in wonder and asked, "Your father works a lot?"

Taking out a jug of milk from the refrigerator, the blonde replied, "Meh, sorta. He only does to save up enough hours to take time off so he can spend it with me and Mom." He poured some milk into a glass, capped the jug, then put it away. "Right now, he's trying to get hours in so he has enough so he can be with us for winter break in two months."

"That's…" Zexion frowned, reminded of his own father who was always gone at work, but never for the benefit of his family; not for something like Demyx's dad was doing. Biting into a potato chip, he finished in a mumble, "That's considerate of him."

Demyx, not noticing something was on the teen's mind, plopped down next to him. "Maybe, but I like when he's here. I think you'd like him."

"If he's anything like you, I highly doubt that," dead-panned the shorter male.

"Again with the verbal abuse… Hey, want to hear something stupid?"

"How does a 'something stupid' differentiate from your normal speaking?" Another dead-pan, but Demyx only rolled his eyes and went on as if Zexion hadn't talked.

"Remember when they came out with that chocolate syrup that can make your milk chocolate?" His aqua eyes surveyed the teen's expression, looking for some hint of interest. Finding none, he decided to continue, "Well, I used to think that actual syrup would turn my milk that way. So one day I went into the fridge and got some, then put in it my drink. Heh, it didn't really work out, and I would get so frustrated when it never turned chocolate."

"So even as a boy you failed at life," Zexion concluded sardonically.

"I didn't fail at anything!" Demyx protested. "And are you implying that you didn't seem like an idiot sometimes when you were little? C'mon, Zexy, no one's perfect; not even you."

Zexion looked over at the blonde and did what appeared to be a smirk. "I can assure you, Demyx Watera, I was the most perfect adolescent you could possibly know. That's something I'm sure I can say with utmost certainty." He returned to nibbling into some finger sandwiches as Demyx widened his eyes incredulously.

"So you're telling me you were always a stick in the mud?"

The slate-haired teen frowned at the inquiry. Sure, he wasn't exactly the life of the party - not that he'd BE in a party in the first place - but that didn't mean he didn't...know how to have fun. He sulkily bit into a sandwich. "Don't criticize my attributes when you have persona problems of your own," he managed to quip.

"Yeah, but at least I try to change that. Tell me Zexy, when was the last time you at least laughed?" the swimmer asked, raising a brow.

Zexion groaned, rubbing his temples. "Are you really babbling that nonsense again? Why do you care about such trivial things?"

Demyx chuckled, messing with his glass full of milk and not saying anything. The slate-haired teen hoped that that meant the blonde would finally give the damn thing a rest; the subject was starting to become really obnoxious. Kind of like Demyx. Couldn't he ever think of a worth-while thing to say? No, he couldn't. Could the swimmer ever be trusted to make correct judgment? That answer was as equally no.

And now Zexion was answering his own questions...

"...I wonder if this is a sign of my growing insanity?" he murmured, realizing a tad too late that he said it out loud.

"What, you believe in things like that?"

Zexion considered the question, then shrugged. "If you've a mind, you've the power to wield it effectively. Conversely, you've the power to let common sense slip."

"What the hell? So you're saying insanity is a choice?" Demyx asked, the look in his eyes a cross between disbelief and interest. Putting an elbow on the table and cupping his chin, he said, "That so isn't the deal. Then why're there people who have to take medication because of their mental instability?"

"That was defensive. Have you ever thought about speech and debate?"

"...You're teasing me again, I just know it. And why would I go out for speech and debate? My after school activities are already booked with your tutoring and my swimming meets."

"I've always mused over this: why is swimming season during the beginning of autumn? Wouldn't the water be cold?"

Demyx blinked, as if he was just now wondering the very same thing. "Um...I'm not too sure about that. But I've never really noticed the temperature of the water before." He tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully, then shrugged. "I think after a while I got used to it. I mean, I've been in water all my life."

Zexion slightly tilted his head to the side. "So you always knew you wanted to swim as a profession?"

"Eh? Well, I'm not sure about going all pro with it," Demyx said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Because I sort of wanted to be a musican, too. Hey, don't look at me that way, Zexy. I'm not stupid; I know that the odds of me hitting it big time aren't so hot. I figure though, since I got the whole swimming thing going for me, I can probably get a good job as a lifeguard."

"Huh? Isn't that a waste of talent?"

Demyx's oceanic eyes gave him a look that asked, _why should you care_? "No, not really. Being a professional at anything is tough business. What're you planning to do with your life?"

Slate brows furrowed in confusion. "You want to know about me?"

"Well, just what you want to do, but I'm totally prepared to hear a life-story if you're up for it."

"Not likely, you one-track minded fool."

"Ah..." wilted the blonde.

Anyway, back to the swimmer's previous question... Zexion looked away. He never really pondered something like that before. He did know the basics like being top of his class, getting into one of the best colleges in the country; y'know, things like that. Future prospects were never really on his mind. The farthest he ever gotten in visualizing down the road was probably seven years. Shocking, but true. Wasn't a guy like Zexion already supposed to have his whole life figured out? At least...that was the reasoning the slate-haired teen suspected Demyx to follow after he told him he didn't know any kind of answer.

Finally he began to mess with the cap of his water bottle - screwing and unscrewing it. "I...don't know. I don't know what I'd like to do as an adult." He looked down, expecting the blonde to make a show of being all shocked and surprised.

It didn't come. Demyx looked up thoughtfully. "Yeah? Well, mind you, not even I know if my career is set and stone. Only the lucky ones do, I guess." He shrugged. "Anyways, you like to read...write, too, right? Why don't you become like a...a writer or something? Or hey, you like to think alot - what about those...what do you call 'em? Philosophers, I think. Yeah, we need more of them in the world," he chuckled, probably realizing he wasn't making much sense. "You'd be good at it." His aqua eyes glanced over at Zexion, silently asking if he liked any of the ideas.

Zexion did something between a scoff and a chuckle. All he knew was that he was faintly smiling. "I don't think so. Philosophers are supposed to be open-minded. They must see things from all perspectives and consider rather impossible outcomes and ideas. I'm not like that." He unscrewed the cap all the way and settled it on his plate. "I don't like thinking that way. It's just not how I do things."

"Are you okay with that?" Demyx's eyes bore onto his, light disbelief upon his countenance. "You're talking about not being open-minded...you're alright with shutting yourself out like that?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Demyx. I'm not shutting myself out of anything. I'm closing myself _in_."

There was a brief moment of silence in which the blonde just stared at Zexion. It was making weird things happen inside him...like his stomach felt like mush and his chest felt so weightless like a balloon had been inflated where his heart was. It was unsettling because this was a sensation the slate-haired teen was not familiar with and it was pissing him the hell off. A sort of abashed blush lightly stained his cheeks and he tried to hide it by saying, "This is the part in which you inform me of how depressing I am."

Then the most wonderful smile Zexion had ever seen spread across Demyx's full pink lips. "Zexy, I don't think it's depressing. It's just...different, that's all. I've never met someone with a thought-process like yours. It's kinda interesting."

The shorter male blinked once, twice, then quickly averted his gaze. Those eyes...it was a look Zexion couldn't help but be...drawn to. It was like Demyx was trying to look at him; no, look _into _him. But not in that scary, probing way like the therapists had that always made him feel so dirty and violated later. No, looking into him like...he was trying to find Zexion's soul; trying to see if such a thing even existed within the teen's small body.

But...no, that was an idiotic notion. You couldn't _see _into someone's _soul_. All that poetic crap was nonsense. 'Eyes are the windows to a soul.' Whatever. That was just about one of the most ridiculous beliefs in the world. And if it was so easy to get a peek inside someone, then why was it every time Zexion stood in front of a mirror to figure himself out, he'd get nothing? Why wasn't that the therapists could just stare at him and immediately understand him? Why weren't other people able to do it?

"You're always having one part of your face covered," Demyx said with a chuckle. Zexion jumped when he felt a warm hand sweep past his cheek, smoothing over his forehead to brush back his bangs. He looked over at the blonde incredulously.

_He's...touching me. Why's he...touching me...? _Oddly enough, the feeling bubbling in the pit of his stomach wasn't frustration or anger of any sort. It was more like panic. Maybe it was because suddenly he felt so...naked and exposed...even though it was over such a small thing as his hair.

Demyx's eyes continued scrutinizing the teen, seemingly with interest. Zexion wanted it to be interest; this was th same look he'd see boyfriends give their girlfriends when they were in their own little world, when they couldn't register anything but themselves. And now…the blonde was gazing at him in that same manner. His mind was reeling, that look getting him so unstable because it was Demyx, DEMYX, who was looking at him and that seemed to make all the difference in the world.

The swimmer chuckled, cutting into Zexion's near incoherent thoughts. "Aha, so the other eye does exist!" he exclaimed. His warm fingers became threaded into the blue-gray locks as he gently brushed the bangs back a little more. "Wow, you look so much different this way. So much less menacing; almost cute, I'd say. You know, maybe you should clip your hair back like girls do."

If there had been some moment between the two teenagers - which there wasn't, Zexion would later (and even now) insist due to a certain blonde's idiotic persona - it was immediately swept away at Demyx's comment. Slapping the hand away, he hissed, "Are you daring to imply that I'm a _girl_?"

"H-huh?" Demyx looked almost confused but then clarity caused him to widen his eyes. With his face coloring, he quickly defended, "Wh-what? No, was that what it seemed like? It's just…I was just thinking how good you look with your hair back so I made a suggestion…"

Zexion glared as harshly as he could, because what guy wanted to be anything like a girl?

The blonde caught the glare and stiffened. "…Okay, maybe it was a stupid suggestion. Erm…sorry I made you think you were a girl. And, um…for calling you cute, too. I couldn't help it, your eyes are so…so pretty. Really blue and big…like a little kid. What's the word…innocent?"

"…What?" Zexion snapped, narrowing his eyes. Innocent? Hardly.

Demyx shook his head, suddenly blushing. "Crap! I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound so gay! Arrrrrgh…!" He buried his face in his hands and began murmuring things incoherently. When he finally resurfaced, he said hastily, "Er, lemme, um…you're done, right? I'll just toss your stuff and wash up." With that, he stood up and gathered his and Zexion's plate and settled them into the sink. He turned and grabbed his glass still a little full of milk.

Zexion looked after the swimmer and frowned, trying to follow his odd behavior. One second he was the flirtatious little fucker he always knew jocks to be, then he was this bundle of…of meekness and affection and now he was complete opposite of the hyperactive blonde the teen knew him to be.

__

What's with all these changes? Even in nature, animals don't respond in such a variety unless they feel their equilibrium being disturbed; like they have to adapt to something

… Zexion never witnessed such attitude changes in people before, and maybe he could have he ever got close to someone_. I wonder if other people get like this? Emotions and behavior polar opposites every second… Yes, either Demyx is bi-polar or he has multiple personalities. Maybe that's why he was so defensive about the insanity talk we had earlier._

Of course, this was all speculation. Zexion liked to do that.

"Would you like me to help you with this?" the teen asked as he came up behind the swimmer. Demyx had just turned on the faucet, which Zexion realized was one of those detachable types that could become like a hose.

"No, it's fine," the taller male returned tersely, and if Zexion heard right, the blonde's voice was a few notes higher than normal.

The slate-haired teen furrowed his brows. Well, he was getting a little confused - weren't people supposed to _accept _your polite acts of kindness? And let's face it, Zexion's kindness at all was rare. Watching the blonde's eyes focused too-intently on the dishes, Zexion reached out a hand and clasped it over Demyx's - the one not holding the faucet head. "It'll be alright. It's the least I can do."

"Hyaah-ah!" Demyx cried in surprise, snatching his hand away.

The shorter male scowled. "What did I do?"

"N-nothing! Nothing at all! Mmm….why don't you go wait for me upstairs or something. I swear I'll be right up in a minute."

"…Demyx-"

"Oh God don't yell at me!"

"…I wasn't _going _to, you over reactive, water-clogged moron," Zexion snapped, rolling his eyes when the blonde had flinched, prepared for a severe chastisement.

Demyx slowly relaxed. "Oh…knew that."

Resigned, the shorter male decided to just sit this one out and let the subject drop. "You're acting so peculiar. Not like you usually do."

"Me?"

"Who else could I be referring to?"

"Ah…right. I'm not acting funny, though."

"I can't say I actually concur with that," the slate-haired teen commented, crossing his arms. "I've seen a lot of odd behaviors before, but it's like you're the product of rolling them all into one."

"Don't you think you're reading way too into this?" Demyx asked, opening up the dishwasher and placing the plates inside. "I'm always a little odd. Heck, without that, you don't really have me." He turned towards Zexion and offered a smile. "See, everything's fine!"

Zexion stared at the blonde for a moment, a near uncontrollable urge to smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Ahem…Ah, Demyx-"

"…I pointed the faucet at myself, didn't I?" Demyx looked down at his shirt and groaned at the large wet spot on his shirt, the water spitting out of the faucet running down his clothes. "Goddammit! Why'd this have to happen? This is just so fucking great…" He began grumbling to himself crossly as he turned the water off, tossing the hose back into the sink. That's when he heard it:

"Pfft…!" Zexion laughed, nearly doubling over as his chest rose up and down with his laughter, pig-like snorts coming out of his nose. "Ha…haha! Haha…!"

Demyx's oceanic eyes immediately widened in disbelief. "What're… You're…you're laughing? Holy crap, you're laughing!"

Zexion fervently shook his head, trying to keep his snorts down to a minimum by covering his face. "N-no, I'm - haha! - I'm not! Sh-shut up! I…" He snorted again. "Don't l-listen - ha - I hate…I h-hate how I l-laugh!"

Demyx grinned, seemingly forgetting all about his wet T-shirt. "What? That's it? I like it!"

"Sh-shut up…heh…"

"I'm serious!" the blonde protested.

Flushing in embarrassment or anger, Zexion wasn't too sure, but he emitted another few pig-like noises then finally calmed down. His hands were still covering his face and he wasn't certain whether or not he should remove them. Demyx couldn't have meant what he said about his laugh. It was the fucking dorkiest thing in the world - no one laughed like that!

"I like your laugh, Zexy."

"…You still sound homosexual; saying things like that…"

"Meh, maybe, but I don't want you to be embarrassed by it. I loved it; now I know you have _some _sense of humor in that apathetic exterior."

Slowly, tentatively, Zexion put down his hands - because he was getting fed up with this stupid attention the blonde was giving him. When he could see, the first thing that registered was the ridiculous scene before him: Demyx, wet shirt clinging to his skin and dampened stray strands of sandy hair getting wavy and sticking to his forehead and neck; and finally, the grin on his face - the same one he gave the slate-haired teen the day they first officially met. The one that immediately accepted him as a human being even though he knew nothing about him.

Zexion was disgusted with himself for even thinking such things. He shouldn't care so much; he shouldn't care at all about what someone like Demyx thought. He didn't want to smile…

…but he knew that Demyx wouldn't stop looking so stupid unless he gave some sort of satisfaction. So Zexion allowed the tiniest of smiles to spread across his face. Because, let's face it: Demyx's smile was way too contagious.

* * *

**Xelruna: **This was the stupidest endings of all stupid endings. There are many cliches in the world, but I can't help but use them! Argh, I need to get better matierial... Anyways, I think next chapter might have a little less Demyx in it - I mean, I think it's time I focus just a bit more on Zexion's past. Plus I need to build his character a bit more, y'know? I need to make him more of an asshole, that's what I need. But its so hard...! I'm such a meek perosn by nature...!

Anyways, this is late...AGAIN! why? Because I kept telling myself for at least the past two weeks and a half that I'd publish it, but I'd only type like five sentences every time I promised that. So today I buckled down for this to get out TODAY! (that reminds me of this weird thing my Enlish teacher told us: she said writing well is like giving birth to a baby...she even gave a rather graphic visual of that....and demonstrated.... -twitches at memory-)

Well, I REALLY hope you likey so I'll ask with my fingers crossed: Am I worthy of a review?

PS, I had Zexion snort because I snort...and I felt lonely cuz I'm the only one of my friends that does....


	7. Fact: Everyone Has a Breaking Point

**A/N: **Oh my Kira, this is soooo late T_T I haven't updated my stories since the beginning of April. Gah! No excuses, really. End-of-year, so i was caught up with not studying and talking with my friends. It turns out I'm a social butterfly at heart xD Well, the year is over for me now, so now I've all summer to update my fanfic! So, yay!

My beta Emily-chan made a wall post that said today was Zemyx/Dexion day! D: I forgot! But I guess you can say I updated this at the right time then, huh...? kekekeke

After all that is typed and done, I REALLY hope you enjoy this. Lots of mixed emotions in this chapter...

_**Fact: Everyone Has a Breaking Point**_

It was the soft thumps on the carpeted stairs that alerted Zexion that someone was awake. He didn't look up from the bathroom mirror as he finished up in knotting up his black tie. Through the door he had left open, he saw Fuu walk down the main hallway and pass the bathroom. No wait – not pass. The slate-haired teen glanced over beside him where his younger sister stood expectantly at the bathroom's doorframe.

"Do you need something?" he asked quietly, albeit coldly. He tried not to give her much notice, instead suddenly becoming engrossed in making sure his shirt was well smoothed over.

His inquiry got Fuu more animated and she growled, "My money."

"And what, pray tell, do you need with it?" Zexion countered coolly. He almost believed he had nothing else to keep him occupied when he started messing with his hair.

"My business," Fuu declared adamantly.

"You're saying it's not for me to know?" The slate-haired teen chuckled, but it was forced, even though it sounded completely ice-cold. "Oh yes, that really does give one motivation to lend you something."

There was odd sort of silence, then there was a small squeaking as Fuu shuffled her sneakered feet. "For lunch," she murmured. When Zexion looked over at her, her face was twisted in a peculiar expression that was a cross between a scowl and a pout. Her thin, pale arm extended towards him, her palm open and facing the ceiling.

Zexion regarded her carefully. "How do I know that's what you're using it for?" he asked. His eyes glanced at the clock behind his sister and he sighed in exasperation at the time. "We, or rather, _I_, am going to be late. You have the habit of aimlessly beating others, don't you? Get it from some poor bystander." He walked past her, vaguely wondering if he had gone too far when he was suddenly slammed into the wall. Painting and picture frames rattled at the sudden impact.

Zexion widened his eyes. Fuu's dark eyes glared at him from beneath her light bangs, a contrast that made her all the more menacing. She looked him up and down, as if contemplating what to do. She wavered, her grip lessening.

The decisiveness returned to her eyes and her knuckles collided with Zexion's face. Hard pain exploded on his upper cheek as he was released. Grunting in pain, he brushed his fingers over his already swelling cheek. Fuu stood there a moment, looking down at him, then turned heel and walked out the door. The slam echoed in the house.

Quietly, slowly, Zexion picked himself up. His eyes stung, but the forming tears had more to do with the physical pain than the emotional one – not that he had any. Only slivers of remorse teased his heart, but the slate-haired teen wasn't much fazed by them. Fuu's attitude was to be expected; it always was. Zexion's apathy was also of little surprise.

Give pain, get pain. It was a weird routine the Anderson siblings had. And it seemed like neither was going to end it any time soon.

* * *

At least Zexion had the luck of the slug landing on the cheek he always covered with hair. Throughout the school day, no one seemed to notice anything wrong. But closer inspection in the boys' bathroom (when it was devoid of any male humanoids, of course), showed the slate-haired teen a purpling bruise with a sickly-yellow color around the edges. Only barely did his sister's knuckles tear through his skin – the light scab wouldn't leave any scars.

It hurt like a bitch, though.

He and Fuu crossed paths only once during the school day; something that rarely happened at all. As soon as he spotted her form – tucked in between the bodies of two attitude-retarded boys he knew to be named Rai and Seifer – he resumed in ignoring her existence (maybe avoid another beating…?). As he walked past the trio, he felt her eyes on him, but he didn't turn back. There was a slam, and when Zexion turned, he saw Fuu had shoved a freshman boy into a row of lockers. Rai jeered as Seifer smiled in approval.

The freshman's eyes looked up at Fuu in fear. She slammed him again. Zexion knew she wasn't going to really do anything – just spook him a bit, maybe take the money from him that Zexion never gave her.

The irony in this was that Fuu used to be the sweetest person you could know. She used to be so meek.

There was a time when the young Anderson would never leave her older brother's side. There was a time she would draw him little pictures, or make him flowers out of pipe cleaners and tissue paper. There was a time when Fuu was scared of people, and the only one she'd let in was Zexion. Suffice it to say, she had a brother complex. Not a big deal.

For some odd reason, Zexion couldn't really remember if he ever did anything for his sister. As much time as they used to spend together, he recalled doing nothing nice for her. She had just been there. What the slate-haired teen did remember were the teachers who would look at the eight-year-old Fuu clutch her older brother's shirt and say, "_She must want his attention. Does he ever spend time with her?"_

"_Yes, they're always together_," their mom would reply with a smile.

Zexion continued walking down the hallway until he settled into the desk of his Economics class. Yeah, there was a time when Fuu had been everything she wasn't now. Now people feared her, talked shit about her behind her back. Now she didn't want anything to do with her brother. Now she made tissue paper flowers for no one.

"_Zexion, what's the capital of Aislee?" _

"_Radiant Garden…why do you ask?"_

_Fuu looked up at him and smiled_._ "Just wanted to see if you knew. You know everything. If I need help with anything, can I ask you?"_

_A ten-year-old Zexion titled his head to the side, slightly perplexed by his little sister's inquiry. "Sure, if you need anything, you can ask me." Smirking slightly, he assured, "I'll know the answer."_

"_Yeah, you always do." Flipping through her kid-encyclopedia, she then asked, "So who were the people of Radiant Garden colonized by?"_

Yeah…that was back when she wouldn't speak in less than two or three syllables. Zexion sometimes wondered what caused the radical change. The doctors wondered. The therapists wondered. Fuu and Zexion's parents wondered for a moment, before creating a world where they raised their children with closed eyes and plugged ears.

The Anderson family moved about almost eight years ago, a few days after the memory Zexion just had. A few years afterward, the two siblings had their mother leave their lives forever. The change had been slow, and at first neither of them had seen it coming. Their mom left, didn't come back, and suddenly he was visiting her every other weekend with Fuu. The visits dwindled as the months wore on. When Fuu started high school two years ago, there even came a time when she cussed her mother out on the phone.

The next day she didn't say anything. She grunted and gestured to communicate. A few days went by when she finally strung some words together, but there weren't a lot. Her speech had been that way ever since. Needless to say, it had been years since the last time she and Zexion saw their mother.

"_It's a common symptom with divorces_," the therapists would say ever-so-bluntly back when the siblings had joint-sessions. "_What you're feeling is normal. And I know things feel rough now – you're angry at your mom for leaving you. You feel alone. But you're not, really you're not."_

What a load of-

"Shit!" exclaimed an unnamed classmate as he suddenly fell over a desk. His friends laughed at the idiocy, one helping him up.

Zexion ignored their stupid voices and instead became suddenly engrossed with the objectives written on the board. He couldn't stop thinking about Fuu for some odd reason. And that bothered him a lot. He never – oh what was the word? – _cared_ much about anything but himself. His thoughts becoming clouded with one person didn't mix well with him. So you know what Zexion decided?

Yeah, he was going to stop caring. It wasn't like anyone would notice anyway. People never noticed.

* * *

The house. Was. Empty.

And what was even more surprising was that the door was _unlocked_. Zexion closed the door behind him gently, alert and sensing for a presence. There was no piano playing. No TVs or radios or noise of any sound was being produced. Demyx Watera's house seemed completely uninhabited. But that was a stupid thought – who left their house so carelessly unprotected?

_Well, I_ did _come unannounced_, Zexion thought, stepping further into the home. His eyes wandered thoughtfully up the stairs. _Maybe he's asleep. I wouldn't hold it against him._ The teen stepped up to the second floor and quietly made his way over to Demyx's room.

The door was open. Zexion peeked inside. Save for the muddy-brown snake lazily coiled in his tank, no other lifeforms inhabited the room.

The slate-haired teen sighed. Yeah, maybe he'd come back another time… But something stopped him just as he turned heel:

There was something like a splash outside the house. Zexion heard it from out the window that was next to Demyx's bed. He moved over to the window, lightly brushing back the curtain. Beyond and below in the back yard, Zexion spotted a pool, on the edge of which stood none other than the blonde. The slate-haired teen bustled down the stairs.

He made it to the kitchen, where at the end there was a sliding-glass door with a clear view of the pool. But…it was utterly lacking a certain blonde. Upon closer inspection, Zexion figured out why.

There was a porch swing facing ninety degrees away from him. On one side sat a wet Demyx. Beside him was a red-haired girl. Zexion instantly recognized her as one of the people Demyx had introduced him to during lunch. Ah, but a name, a name…! Oh, there it was: Axle Embers. But…what was she doing here? Zexion tried not to make his presence known. He considered just walking away and dropping by another time as earlier planned…but something made him stay.

Axle's face was solemn. Her eyes looked off into the distance. She said something Zexion couldn't hear. Demyx tilted his head and he must've said something because Axle then shook her head. There was a moment when neither of them moved, then suddenly, Demyx's arms were around the red-haired girl. Shock and something bigger but unnamable shot through Zexion's body. Said unnamable emotion took over his sense of thought, and he scowled, opening the sliding door without a second thought. Something wanted to kill Demyx, to tear Axle away from his arms-!

Two pairs of eyes suddenly looked up at him in surprise, and all maddening thoughts evaporated from Zexion's mind – replaced with an abashed blush on his face. Crap, what was he supposed to do? Say something, think coherently…!

"Oh, _Zexion_, right?" Axle asked somewhat cheekily, pulling away from Demyx's embrace.

The swimmer tensed, widening his oceanic eyes. "Oh! Zexy! What're you doing here?" he asked awkwardly, turning to face the shorter male.

Any remaining lines of thought Zexion's mind might've possessed were whisked away the moment his eyes fell on the tan expanse of Demyx's exposed skin. He couldn't stop himself from thinking of that sandy skin covered with droplets of water, that blonde hair sticking to his neck, and those pink nipples hardened in the cold…

You know how in cartoons when a computer gets a virus it starts to fizz and smoke with electrical wires flailing everywhere? Well, about the same thing happened to Zexion's sense of reason. His whole mind short-circuited and he then realized how stupid he was and how thick the saliva that had built up in his mouth was.

Said saliva was quickly gulped down as Zexion quickly placed his binder onto a free space on the porch swing. "Here, I left some worksheets inside there for you. I don't care when I get them back, just complete them…" _Or something_. He locked eyes with Demyx once, just to show he wasn't losing his mind. "Alright, that's there, then… My, erm, sincerest apologies for interrupting you."

"Um, nice seeing you…?" Axle said dubiously after him. Something in Zexion wanted her to jump of a cliff.

What in the name of knowledge was wrong with him?

He shouldn't be so upset. It was just…how close Demyx and Axle had been…it sparked a reaction within the slate-haired teen. _I acted…protective. No, that's not the right word. I was…I was_… Zexion thought of the image of the two teens again. Mixed emotions ran through his heart and he tried to name all of them; see if there was a better word to classify it all: betrayal, anger, sadness…

Zexion stopped walking a few feet from the door. No. Not any of that.

**Jealously**.

_I was…jealous_, the teen thought numbly, almost fearfully. _No, I still am. I'm jealous. I_… The word echoed in his mind: Jealous. _But that can't be true. Jealously is a hormonal reaction youth have all the time. One they display when they sense something could potentially be taken from them: dignity, popularity…objects of affection… And if that something is taken_…

Zexion's heart pounded under his skin, it pounded hard. He was scared. There was answer that was within his reach and he could almost touch it if he let out just a hair more…

"Zexy! Where are you going?" Demyx exclaimed, his dripping, half-naked form suddenly behind the shorter male. Tan arms were suddenly around him, encasing his chest and pressing Zexion to the blonde.

Zexion gasped. Whoa, whoa, WHOA. Being hugged should NOT feel this good to him. But somehow time got sucked in then spat back out during the moment that Demyx held him. The slate-haired teen tried to compose himself, feeling intense heat crawl to his cheeks and down his spine.

Nononononononononoooooo….

He had been jealous. Of Axle. Because Demyx embraced her. _I want him to hold me like that_, Zexion remembered thinking for a fleeting second.

_No, I cannot…not with anyone, and especially not him! _

"Demyx, let me go, please," Zexion said, his voice thankfully albeit surprisingly sturdy and casual. "I need to get home. Not all of us have as much free time as you."

"Can't you stay a bit?" Demyx asked, nuzzling his nose into the shorter male's hair.

Zexion spine erected. "H-hey, stop that! Why are you so familiar with people?" he exclaimed, pulling away. Glaring behind his shoulder, Zexion threw open the door. "Would it kill you to give people their own space?"

Demyx's persona didn't fail him, and he smiled brightly. "Space? You're in _my _house," he lilted, spreading his arms wide. His words were laced with laughter. "There is no such thing as personal space here."

Zexion's hold on the knob lessened a bit, and he visibly relaxed. Stupid Demyx and his contagious friendly attitude… The blonde noticed the slate-haired teen's changing mood and said, "But if you really got to go, I want to give you something first!"

"Huh?" The swimmer bounded away up his room, signaling for Zexion to wait there. When he came back down, his hands were behind his back. Then he removed one, handing what he held to the shorter male.

"Here, I got this for you. Maybe it'll get you educated on the world of rock."

Zexion's curious blue eyes traversed over to the thin square-shaped object handed to him. It was a CD case, the cover gray and a soldier-like man with white wings made up the cover. Near the bottom right corner were the words '_Hybrid Theory'_.

"What…is this?" Zexion asked, opening the case to find a red disk.

"It's Linkin Park," Demyx explained. "Ah, these guys will fill all the angst you've got and more. You listened to them with me in my car, remember?" He shrugged, a hopeful smile playing upon his pink lips. "You seemed like you were into them, so I got your own copy of the CD for you."

"…A gift…?"

"Sure, you can call it that. Maybe a bit of compensation for helping me out in school?"

Zexion gingerly placed the CD inside one of the pockets of his binder. He licked his lips, realizing then that the corners of them were tugged upward. "I suppose I should thank you, but you called it compensation, so…" He turned towards the opened-ajar door.

Demyx got hyperactive behind him. "H-hey! You know, a _little _thanks would be nice!"

"Yes, I suppose it would," the shorter concurred, stepping down onto the porch. The breeze outside caught his hair, momentarily brushing it away from his face…

"Whoa Zexy, what happened to your cheek?" Demyx cried in concern, automatically going over to the slate-haired teen.

Zexion froze, having completely forgotten about the ugly bruise his younger sister had given him earlier. He flushed; quickly trying to put his bangs back in place…but a large tan hand interrupted the action. Demyx's blonde brows were furrowed in observation as his fingers gently brushed back the slate bangs. His aqua eyes widened in horror. "Who did this to you?" he asked in a low voice.

Zexion slapped Demyx's hand away. He hated the look on the swimmer's face; hated how…concerned he was. Someone actually being concerned for him…it was new; different from the therapists. And Zexion wasn't sure he liked that too much.

"It's nothing," he murmured, stepping out of touching range. He hung his head, the bangs falling back over his face. "It's none of your business." Damn, how he could he so careless? He never wanted Demyx to see him with this mark. Zexion was still a guy after all, and he didn't want to appear inferior to the blonde.

Demyx's face twisted in utter seriousness. "No, it's _not_ nothing, you idiot. I know bruises like those and you can't get 'em from just falling down the stairs. Who did it?" There was a silence in which Zexion teetered the choice of talking or running. After a few moments, Demyx asked, "Are things okay at home?"

Right on target. Weird, clogged sensations shot up Zexion's throat. "Shouldn't you be getting back to your guest?" he snapped, but as soon as he said it, Axle came walking out of the house. Her bottle-green eyes looked from him to Demyx, silently wondering what was going on.

"Um, I'm gonna be going now, 'kay Dem? See you later." She walked past Zexion, then looked over her shoulder and offered a smile. "Don't be a stranger next time, Zexion. I'll talk to you sometime."

"See ya, Ax," Demyx said softly after her. When she was gone, the swimmer raised a blond brow. "Hmm, well would you look at that? No guest to attend to now."

"Please Demyx Watera, just _leave_ it."

The blonde's voice rang out in the porch, only barely restrained. "Look, Zexy, you may not think much about our time together, but I like to consider you a friend!" He softened, having that wide-eyed, teary look again. "You're my friend. And when I see my friends hurt, I want to know what's happening to them. I wanna help, y'know? Please…_please_ tell me."

How could Demyx help? He couldn't. Demyx was a completely irrelevant factor in this equation and his being involved could just tip the whole thing off-course. No, the swimmer wasn't going to be this. But how could he explain the mark? In the back of his mind, he was being told not to lie to Demyx.

"Just…a fight among siblings. Is that so wrong?" The blonde blinked: once, twice, trying to absorb that information, Zexion could see it. The slate-haired teen raised a brow in defiance. Looking up at the sky, he said absently, "Hmm, should be taking my leave, don't you think? I have dinner to prepare…"

"Zexy!" Demyx exclaimed just as the shorter male turned around. "Wait, please. Okay…okay, if none of what happened to you is my business… Please, just listen to this. We've known each other for over two months now, and…you're still a stranger. I don't know how much about me you know, but just know this: I'm here for you, man. Anything you need, I'll try to give. Okay?"

Now it was Zexion's turn to blink dumbfoundedly. The way Demyx said it…it was like he was offering all of himself to him. That…wasn't considered 'normal' among friends nowadays, was it? Zexion could tell. _He's so caught up in the moment… Why is he doing this for me? I don't need him, so what could he _possibly_ offer me? And…conversely, what could _I_ possibly offer him that he'd promise this for me? Give-and-take, correct? I've nothing to give, and even I did, I wouldn't give it to him_.

_Which makes this_ pointless _and_ stupid, Zexion concluded, almost forcibly. "Your little oath is noted," he said quietly, turning away. As he walked down the sidewalk, he wondered if it was too late to go back; too late to tell Demyx everything. He wondered what the blonde would do if he ever found out about his life…

Demyx's voice suddenly rang out when the slate-haired teen was turning the corner, interrupting his thoughts. "Hey, listen to the CD, alright? It won't kill you to learn a little teenage culture!"

_Why is he calling out to be in broad daylight_? "Get inside before you catch cold!" Zexion shouted, face heating up. "It's the middle of October, you idiot!"

"I thought idiots couldn't catch colds…"

"I am now _ignoring _you…."

"Haha, aw, _Zexy_…!"

Zexion permitted himself to smile just a tiny bit. At least the mood had changed between them. He decided he certainly liked a hyper, happy Demyx more than a moody one. But the slate-haired teen's relief didn't last long.

By the time Demyx was out of sight and hearing range, it was quiet enough for Zexion to think again about what happened back at the blonde's house. _I don't understand it… Why did I react that way? I don't want to be jealous over him! I don't want to be _anything _with him. I didn't even want this tedious assignment_… But not matter how much he tried to rationalize it to his brain, his body reacted on its own. It didn't make sense. And Zexion _detested _when something did not make sense.

"_Well, I don't think you can help that. Even if you try to set your mind to forget, your body…will always remember."_

So, the mind and body would sometimes disagree? But there seemed to be some variable factor, something the teen wasn't considering…

"_I really want to do something nice for you." _Oh…the look in Demyx's eyes that day…how soft his expression was… Those clear, oceanic eyes…

Zexion's heart did something odd then. It felt like…like all these butterflies had been set loose and were trapped inside it. Then he remembered that description. He used to read them in books all the time. He went down a mental check list of things he had done when near Demyx: blushing, sensitive to his touch, secretly anticipating when the blonde would embrace him again… Zexion stopped short when he remembered what diagnosis those symptoms led to.

… … …

Zexion froze on the concrete sidewalk, and almost dropped his binder.

Oh.

Shit.

But…no! HELL no! His heart went on overload and the teen couldn't control it. It jumped excitedly in his chest, like it had been waiting for him to realize this.

"N-no! Stop it! I'm not…I can't…!" Zexion tried desperately, clutching his heart over his chest. "Not with him, no, not with anyone! This isn't me, this is stupid…!" But no matter how much he denied it, the thought had already crossed his mind and it was running around and around his mind; teasing him:

He was growing fond of Demyx. Too fond.

He was falling for him. He was falling for the smile and eyes and tan skin…

Alright, Zexion was going to permit himself to do this once more, just for those of you who didn't get the gravity of the situation the first time:

Oh.

**Shit**.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **Finally! A realization of feelings! Kekekeke

In case it wasn't obvious, I did have to rush a bit with the ending. And then when I was done, I realized that it'd be better if Demyx actually noticed the lil beatin' Fuu had given Zexion, so I had to rewrite a bit. So really, that's the only part I'm hoping came out alright. Everything else was written near the beginning of May xP

So, it's a been along while, but I've made up for it. T_T Still, I will ask, am I worthy of a review?


	8. Opinion: Some Things Can't be Defined

**A/N: **'Ello, little duckies. :P It's been QUITE awhile, eh? I can't believe I haven't updated since frickin' June! D: Ack! And people still reviewed throughout the months. I thank you so much for keeping this fic alive in my absence. All I really have to say is a MILLION apologies! -bows repeatedly- School has completely taken over my life. I'm lucky to even write in my classes T_T But I'm alive! And quite honestly, I'm appalled I don't hve anything left to say. D: Hopefully I'll think of more later...

For now, it is Thanksgiving and I'm here at my aunt's house, updating. So eat your turkey and here's something to be really grateful for: the long-awaited update for Hybrid Theory! I did do my bst to make it worht your wait... (Even then, I may still fall short -dies-)

For **Purple Glass **and her friend: You two were the deciding factor that I had to get off meh arse and UPDATE! :D Much love! And enjoy -bows-

_**Opinion: Some Things Can't be Defined**_

Uncle Auron was a tall and broad-shouldered man (which made Zexion feel all the more short and scrawny). His shaggy, short hair was graying. A long scar ran down his face. He spoke little, but it didn't make him bad (although it didn't make him any less daunting, either). And, Zexion noted approvingly, he traveled light.

"Auron, are you sure this is all you need?" Zexion's father asked, frowning at the single luggage case and large backpack.

"Clothes, tiny essentials, and a small supply of books, Max," Auron explained tersely. He shed off his jacket and set it gingerly on the coat hook. "It is all I require. And it is not as if I am staying forever."

"I suppose so…"

Zexion watched the two of them idly from his place in the living room. Between his hands he was holding a well-used copy of _Great Expectations_, his favorite of Charles Dickens. He found that when he could never make sense of life, when there came along an anomaly or two, he could find peace of mind once more when he read this book. It was akin to how one felt when being with an understanding friend when you were down, or so Zexion analogized.

"Dickens again, hmm?" Auron asked the teen knowingly as he suddenly appeared before him.

Uncle Auron was perhaps the person closest to understanding Zexion. He never complained about Zexion's lack of communication, or thought he was an uber-nerd with a stick up his ass like most of the student body who noticed him believed. And probably even more notable was that he enjoyed reading just as much as the teen did.

"One of these days, I will convert you to Stephen King," Auron threatened lightly, a light smile on his face. Case in point. "Just you wait."

"Not until I am able to witness you get through _A Tale of Two Cities_," Zexion countered, offering what was his version of a grin.

His uncle chuckled. "How are you, Zexion? Your sister Fuujin…" He didn't finish the sentence. Auron was also very wise to the Anderson family situation. He never tried to avoid the subject – much to Zexion's annoyance – although he did approach it tentatively. He seemed to be the only adult who gave the matter another thought. Zexion's father had long since severed any real communication with his children.

Zexion's gaze fled to the safety of the bounded words of the book. All at once, his words were hollow and could-care-less. "She's out. If we are fortunate, we will be seeing her before eleven."

"This is a dangerous town when it wants to be," Auron warned quietly.

The slate-haired teen turned a page, continuing to read. "But it is my hypothesis that is the very reason she is not currently home," he replied impassively. "She gets a thrill out of danger."

"Another suspicion?" his uncle asked.

"No, just a fact," Zexion replied point-blankly.

Zexion's father came up then and patted Auron on the shoulder. "Alright, went to get set up in the study? I'll drag out the spare mattress and I already rearranged the furniture."

The scarred man nodded slowly, turning to his brother. "Very well. I'll follow you."

Zexion's dad gave his son a glance. "Reading again?" he asked, sounding pleased. "Have you already finished your homework?"

"Yes, I have. It was fairly easy," the teen murmured. He returned his gaze to his book, trying to focus on it - maybe hoping his parent would disappear if he did so.

No such chance. "Excellent. Keep that up, alright? That's the proper way to a top-notch university. Did Zexion ever tell you he's aiming for Never Was?" His father looked over at Auron, continuing to talk about Zexion's academic excellence. That's the only time he really noticed the teen. It was Zexion's only redeeming quality to his father, it seemed. Everything else was invisible to him.

"Your official applications are in winter, right?" his dad asked, dragging his son away from his book again.

"That's what the counselors say," Zexion murmured a bit sardonically.

"Alright. Well…don't forget to study. Don't fall behind now when it really counts."

"Of course not."

The two adult men headed out. Auron gave Zexion a meaningful look as he was escorted out of the room, leaving the slate-haired teen was left in silence once more.

But as past events should've taught him, the blissful peace would not last another minute. Just as Zexion was absorbed into Pip's world once more, the house phone rang right next to him. Sighing, he answered it reluctantly.

"Anderson residence, Zexion speaking," he intoned.

"_You mean people actually answer like that still_?" Demyx said in slight awe. "_Oh, what am I saying? It's you, Zexy. You're old-fashioned like that_."

Zexion almost dropped the phone. But he quickly caught himself, his heart accelerating so fast it was practically buzzing under his chest. It had been a week since the realization at Demyx's house and during school, the teen tried to keep as much to himself as possible. He spent lunches in a hidden corner of the library and made sure to hurry to his next class as soon as the bell rang. Not crossing Demyx Watera was a central objective in these tasks.

"How did you obtain my house phone number?" he growled. Angry. Dammit, he was angry! Zexion had worked _hard _to block Demyx from his life, yet the blonde just popped in like a cordial weasel. The jerk…

"_Eh_? _Oh, that, I just asked Lexy," _he explained in his usual upbeat way_. "It wasn't very hard, you know. I should've asked him for it sooner, now that I stop and think about it…"_

Lexaeus helped him! Argh, that auburn-haired boy was SO having a dictionary thrown at him: maybe then he'd know the meaning of the term 'sell-out.'

"_But anyway," _began Demyx again_, "where have you _been _this week, man? It's like I haven't seen you at all_!"

"That's because you haven't," Zexion affirmed. He slipped his bookmark in between the pages of _Great Expectations_. It was Demyx, so he knew this was going to be awhile… "Is that the only reason you're calling me? You're interrupting _Charles Dickens_."

"_Oh, him! Don't tell me, I know who he is… Got it! He's a writer from way back in the day; he writes poetry! One of his collections was called 'The Flowers of Evil,' right_?"

Zexion paused. "Demyx…that's Charles _Baudelaire_."

Now Demyx was speechless for a moment. "_Seriously_?" he asked in disbelief. "_Aw, I can't believe it, all that for nothing_…"

While the slate-haired teen had no idea what the swimmer was going about, but he was surprised at the information Demyx had spouted out. "Wait, so you've _actually _read _Les Fleurs Du Mal_?_" _he asked incredulously.

"_Oh, that's the real title, right? French or something? Er, yeah, I skimmed through it_," the blonde admitted. Then he chuckled. "_Dude, did you know he wrote poems about lesbians_?"

Zexion couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Of course _you _would notice that, Demyx Watera…" Checking out books for peeks at porn (even if it was in words) - seemed like the teenage thing to do.

"_Well, what poem did you like_?"

"Actually, I never read it," the teen replied quietly.

"_What? I thought _you _were the bookworm, Zexy_!" Demyx exclaimed, but with a hint of pride - he seemed pleased to have read something Zexion hadn't. And the slate-haired teen had to admit, he was pretty abashed about it himself.

"Well, I don't particularly read poetry," he elaborated, picking at the pages of _Great Expectations_. "I know of many poets and their writings, but seldom do I actually study them."

Demyx sighed. "_Hmm. Too bad, you seem like a poetry appreciator-type person_. _And not just because you're a little geek_," he added in good humor.

Ignoring the quip, Zexion decided to ask, "Well, what possessed you to read Charles Baudelaire, anyway? I never believed you to have the capacity to read something of that nature," he said - and he'd be lying if it wasn't a bit of a retort to Demyx's teasing.

"_Who, me? Oh, well, I…I_…" Demyx struggled for words. "_I just stumbled upon him - really_," he added in a self-ironic tone. "_And anyway, I just figure poetry is the same as music only without instruments. They express through words, isn't that right_?"

"Poetry is nothing like what teenagers listen to."

"_It's all a matter of perspective_," Demyx insisted.

Zexion scoffed. "Isn't it always? Perspective just makes differences all the more apparent. If every solitary person inputted their own view on something, then that thing can never be truly defined."

A short pause before Demyx answered lightly, "_But isn't that what poetry and music are? I mean, why don't you try to define them: in an un-Zexion-like way – as in, no dictionary terms_."

Zexion floundered. "I-I… No, look, we're getting off course," he quickly evaded (and he knew Demyx would catch it). He shook his head again at what he said, "No, wait! There isn't even a course! _You_ called _me_ out of nowhere, alright?"

"_Oh yes, because I was expected to forget all about you when you fell off the face of the Earth this past week_," said Demyx sardonically. "_I just wanted to know what's been happening. What, it isn't reason enough for you?" _

_He specifically called to just ask where I've been. Initiatively obtaining my number…maybe…thinking of me… Has he…really missed me, perhaps_? Zexion didn't know if he was becoming more or less tense. His mind was on edge but the frown slowly slipped from his face.

"Hardly," the slate-haired teen said. Then - maybe he was fishing for a certain answer - he asked, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"_Like what_?"

"Like…homework, for example. Or some form of socializing?"

"_I'm talking to you, aren't I_?"

"That's not-"

"_And how can I understand this gibberish slave-labor - aka "homework" - if I don't have my brilliant teacher to help me_?" Demyx inquired rhetorically. At the question, Zexion, for a second, lost his marbles.

"Do I exist just to help you pass your classes?" he asked tersely, momentarily forgetting that that was why he was with the blonde in the first place. Screw all the points Demyx earned before, he just wanted to know where his portable teacher was. Zexion had almost forgotten the reason Demyx needed a tutor in the first place - to retain his position as Twilight High's swim captain.

Demyx sounded surprised when he spoke again. "_Huh? Wait dude, what's up? Aww…did I say something wrong again?_"

Zexion was quiet, thinking about what to say next. It seemed like nowadays he was saying more and more things on impulse. He knew why, and he knew who he always did it around. What he didn't know was how to absolve it.

"Zexion, I need your help upstairs."

The slate-haired teen looked up at his father staring down at him. His ears completely blocked off Demyx's voice as he locked eyes with his dad's eyes. Zexion's mind warped for a minute, and just for a split-second, he was transported into the therapists' office. He was a boy his parents hadn't wanted. He had a husk of a heart with nothing inside - just like those who created him.

("_Zexion, can't you feel anything_?")

The teen's attention was drawn back to Demyx when he heard the phone-muffled voice ask, "_Zexy? You still there_?"

"Um… Excuse me, please. I have things to attend to here," he said, giving in to his father's expectant gaze. "I'll…be at my regular table with Lexaeus tomorrow. We can talk then - after all, _you_ have a lot of practice to catch up on and I have to _wring_ his neck..." He hung up before he could hear a response.

One hand resting leisurely against his hip, his father repeated, "We could really use you. Let's go, we can't keep Auron waiting."

"Yes, sir," Zexion murmured, putting the phone back on the cradle and quickly following upstairs. As he did so, he couldn't help but think, once more, that he wanted Demyx's warm presence with him. The slate haired teen cast his eyes downward: looked like tonight he would need to write again.

* * *

Miss Lockhart was her usual energetic self – which, of course, wearied the impassive Zexion down when he went to her office Monday afternoon. A regular female Demyx she was, now that he stopped and thought about it…

Hands laced under her chin, she asked cheerfully, "So, how's the tutoring been going – ah, for you, I mean."

"I think I want to redo the past few years of my life, starting from when I first stepped into your office freshman year."

"Do I detect sarcasm from Zexion Anderson – almost as if he were a normal teenager?" she retorted triumphantly. She chuckled. "And it's not as if you didn't know what you were getting into when you signed your name."

"It should be confessed, however, that what I 'got into' is a lot more frustrating than what was originally postulated," Zexion murmured sardonically. As afterthought, he added, _In more ways than one_.

"Oh, you're two for two. I think Demyx is rubbing off on you," Miss Lockhart teased before turning to her computer (which was just as well since Zexion's composure faltered lightly and he averted his eyes). "But your efforts aren't for naught, it seems. Demyx is improving in math and science. Wow, you've got him into a B minus average in those subjects. See, I knew you were good for him."

Zexion licked his lips: a distraction from the tugging sensation at the corners of his mouth. Since I've skipped out on a week of lessons, his average could've been higher, but…he's surviving. The B minus was good news. The slate-haired teen felt a slight swell of pride as he thought of Demyx's improvements were the effects of the blonde remembering what Zexion taught him.

"Good to know he's not _completely_ feckless," he finally replied, with his usual wit.

"Hmm," replied Miss Lockhart in a non-committal hum. "Oh, but he's still struggling in English, I see. Have you gone over that yet?"

Zexion rubbed the back of his neck as the counselor continued to survey the screen. Actually, no. At that point in time, neither teen even glanced at the at subject yet. Zexion thought it was the easiest lesson, so he sort of put off that subject for last. He told Miss Lockhart as much.

"Alright, just make sure to take care of that soon, please," she requested, leaning back on her chair. "I hear Demyx's coach is giving out grade checks within the month. It'd be nice if Demyx got good marks so he could stay on the team, hmm?"

"Yes, I know," sighed Zexion. There it was again – that constant reminder of Zexion's relationship with Demyx Watera: just a tutor to keep the precious swim captain on the stupid team. Afterward, there would be no relationship other than distant classmates.

Just as Zexion thought it should be.

"We're beginning our novel for the first nine weeks," he began to explain, trying to get his mind back on track. He pulled out a small book from his white binder and presented it to Miss Lockhart. _"The Scarlet Letter_. I figure that is as good a place to start as any."

Miss Lockhart smiled, lightly clapping her hands. "That's great, simply perfect! Ah, you're doing such an excellent job, Zexion," she complimented. "See? And to think you didn't want to do this-"

"What's leading you to believe my impression has changed since then?" Zexion interrupted, but his counselor ignored him.

The bell rang, signaling lunch. Miss Lockhart's eyes widened at the time. "Oh man! I was supposed to meet Cloud fi-I-I mean, I was supposed to be at a meeting-"

"It's okay, Miss Lockhart, even adults are allowed a social life," the slate-haired teen assured sardonically. "Especially since they still have the mentality of a high schooler…"

"Hey, I came back here for a reason," she defended lightly, shaking a finger at him. She quickly gathered up her bag and said, "Oh, Zexion, I'll call you up again in later this month to check up on things with you and Demyx again, alright?"

"Noted," the teen replied tersely, following the frenzied counselor out the door. Taking a deep breath, he willed his feet forward in the direction of the cafeteria.

Teenagers bustled past him, chatting loudly with friends as the cafeteria filled with a cacophony of idle chatter. Some bumped into him without so much as an apology, leaving Zexion with dirty sensations where they touched him. He balanced his lunch tray onto his binder after he got through the line. He tried to compose himself as much as possible as his light blue eyes quickly looked onto his usual table at the far side of the room. No one was there presently, which Zexion found he surprisingly panicked to. At least if Lexaeus had been there, he wouldn't appear as…_vulnerable_. And God knows how many vultures there are in high school…

He quietly settled onto the scene, staring down at his food. He couldn't believe how on edge he was. He was supposed to not give a damn about these people or what they thought of him. Yet it suddenly felt like they could all read his mind, see his flaws, observe his confusion, poised for attack…

Zexion choked on the macaroni in his mouth, the breath being squeezed out of him as warmth suddenly encased him. And that chlorine-citrus scent… Only one possibility…

"Nngh! G-AH!-God _dammit_, Demyx Watera – ack!"

"Couldn't hold back, Zexy," replied the blonde point-blankly. "I haven't seen you in eons and you were all alone-"

Blood rushed to Zexion's face. "You water-clogged little-! You're cutting off my _circulation_ – enngh!"

"Alright, Demyx, get off him," came Lexaeus' voice behind the two teens. "Your homo hormones are causing a scene and drawing passerby."

"Oh yes, wouldn't want to traumatize the freshmen, now would we?" Demyx's arms left Zexion's body, leaving the slate-haired teen very hot all over and his heart racing. The swimmer immediately plopped down next to Zexion. Lexaeus silently sat down across from the two, an extra tray with him.

"Demyx, here's your tray," he said, sliding the extra lunch to the blonde. "And next time, give _warning_ before you dump your stuff on me."

"My bad, Lexy. Thanks though, man."

Zexion cast a weary glance to his auburn-haired companion. "'Homo hormones'?" he repeated blandly.

"Don't feel creeped out, Zexy, all kids our age have them nowadays," Demyx replied placidly, having no qualms in expressing his opinion.

"Wait, wait." The slate-haired teen tried to get organized about the situation. He looked over at Demyx pointedly. "So…are you saying you really _are _homosexual?"

Demyx stopped eating, pausing mid-chew to glance at Lexaeus. The muscular teen returned the look, and the two seemed to be silently arguing about something. Zexion impatiently waited, thinking that this was tense enough for him without the answer to this question being denied him. He tried not to think beyond the answer to the inquiry – like why he wanted to know or what he'd do after he knew.

He sighed, flipping aside his bangs. "I know I made an observation of it before, but if you're heterosexual, then I meat no harm by it," he explained, picking at his food idly. "And as you've previously stated, experimenting with the same sex is quite common in our age group."

Demyx cleared his throat, patting his chest. "Uh, yeah…let's go with that. Er...experimenting or…whatever." He got quiet, proceeding to chug down his milk in one swing. Lexaeus emitted a hardly audible sigh of disappointment. Demyx heard it, and seemed irked by it as he scowled.

And Zexion tried to let it drop. The only problem with that was that he wasn't satisfied with his answer. He felt like he should've gotten something more; maybe he should pursue the subject… But he decided against it based on Demyx's new ambience. He seemed a bit withdrawn – maybe the teasing wasn't meant to be taken literally and the inquiry pissed him off in some way? After all, guys seemed to take offense in being called homosexual. Zexion never saw what was the big deal with sexuality in the first place. Among animals, if one decided to have intercourse with the same gender, it didn't even stir a ripple. Humans could afford to learn a thing or two from their wild counterparts.

In any case, whatever silent argument had been going on with Demyx and Lexaeus seemed to reach a stalemate. Speaking of which, when had their relationship reached a point where they _could_ argue wordlessly?

"So, Zexy," began Demyx with a renewed smile, "when-oh-when can we resume our precious bonding time?"

"I suppose as soon as possible," Zexion replied with a shrug. "I've actually just spoken with Miss Lockhart: we should proceed to your English troubles when we can."

"Argh, English," groaned the swimmer. "Well, how about tonight? Better we nip this in the bud, right, and get it over with? Besides, I have practice to go to Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Friday I'm going out with my friends. Hey…do you think maybe you'd want to come with us? I already invited Lexy but _he_ said he couldn't make it," he snipped sardonically. "You're not going to let me down, too, are you?"

"Eh?" Zexion frowned at the offer. Well, what the heck did Demyx EXPECT him to say? Oh yeah, thank you, I feel so honored going out with your crowd? Yeah, not likely. He had enough idiots surrounding him daily and had no desire to be around them in his leisure. "Um, no, I don't want to go."

"Whaaaaaaaaat?" groaned the blonde. "How could you, Zexy? You could've at least made up an excuse instead of denying it so bluntly."

"What would've been the point in lying?" inquired the slate-haired teen. Knowing it wouldn't do for it to be cold, he resumed eating. "Now then, back to more important matters, would you like me to come over to your house right after school, or should I go home first? Your mother seemed surprised that I wear my uniform so often…"

"Actually, this is what I was thinking," Demyx interjected, casting a knowing glance in Lexaeus' direction. "I actually wanted to go over to _your_ house for the tutoring session tonight. I've never been there except for that one time I dropped you off."

"And you never will be there ever again," Zexion quickly assured.

"Oh c'mon!" the blonde exclaimed. "Is there a real reason why I can't come over?"

"Is there a real reason why you should?" Zexion countered.

"And it begins…" murmured Lexaeus. The slate-haired teen opted to ignore him, aimlessly playing with his macaroni.

"Look, I just think it would be better for me to remain at your house," Zexion said. As an afterthought, he admitted, "And quite honestly, the notion of you in my home makes me uncomfortable."

"Unless you have zombies in your basement or porn hidden in your room, I see no reason why you'd be uncomfortable," Demyx said, drumming his fingers on the table. "And even then I'd want to go. C'mon, Zexy, just one time, it won't kill you."

"I…" He wished Demyx would just drop the matter, but the actual chances for that seemed, at best, slim. And truth be told, Zexion was nervous in more than one way about the swimmer in his house – in his room – touching things, making his presence known… What if after the blonde left, Zexion would still see the afterimages of him there? And then what: just long for him even more?

Longing. Zexion frowned at the word. He couldn't believe this was real. He was actually looking at Demyx Watera this way. He thought he quashed all this nonsense last night, when he stayed up writing – pages of it – just so he could get rid of it all. He wasn't used to his head being filled so much and…his chest, too. That was what Zexion resented the most; what made the least sense to him: the tight feeling in his chest. Especially now, when he was near Demyx, and conversing with him like all was balanced and undisturbed.

But everything was just not that.

"…and you can make up whatever rules you want, okay? And if it's your family you're worried about, don't worry, I totally know how to present myself. I mean, I have when I met past girlfriends' pare-"

"If I let you come over, will you just…shut up?" Zexion asked, a little tense. Demyx's eyes immediately lit up, and Lexaeus blinked in surprise. The slate-haired teen ignored these looks and pressed on, staring Demyx straight in the eye. "It's just one time, correct? Then I'll do it. But since I know that if we set up a time you'll be late, you're coming straight home with me."

The blonde blinked, then a small sultry smile formed on his lips. "Zexy, give a little warning next time: I didn't know you were so _aggressive_!"

Ignoring the quip, Zexion murmured, "My persona has always been as such, believe it or not." Actually, his therapists didn't even guess that back when he frequented their offices. Quite the opposite in fact: he was too passive. Chuckling to himself, the teen wondered ironically, _If only they could hear Demyx's claim_. _Even if it was just a quip._

_**

* * *

**_

With a jangle of keys, the door was open. As Demyx stepped inside and surveyed the entrance hall, Zexion took off his shoes and placed them in a closet. He turned to the blonde, who was already strolling about.

"Demyx, get back over here and take off your shoes. It's a handful within itself to keep this place clean with Fuujin and my father without you dirtying it as well," Zexion snapped. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. Neither Fuu or his father were home long enough for there to be much mess to clean.

"Huh? Are you talking about Fuu? The same one in Seifer's gang?"

Zexion tried to ignore the disbelief, instead mentally punishing himself for not choosing his words wiser. Impassively, he replied, "She's my sister. Now get over here and take off your footwear. The sooner we get started the better."

The swimmer came over and kicked off his shoes. "Oh, sorry about that," he apologized, neatly placing them in the closet beside Zexion's sneakers. He loosened up his uniform tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little. Zexion, very much to his chagrin, observed the action and felt the slightest warmth creep to his cheeks at the sight of tan skin. "Hope you don't mind. It's hell just to keep my uniform straight at school."

"Um, no, that is fine," Zexion assured in a murmur, but he doubted Demyx heard it as the blonde stretched and looked around.

"So where's your room, Zexy?"

"It's just upstairs," Zexion said, rolling his eyes. "Contain yourself."

"Zexion?" came a voice up the stairs.

The two teenagers looked up to meet Auron's misty eyes. Oh. Zexion had forgotten all about his relative staying over at his house. He should've remembered it sooner; he'd have had another excuse to not let the blonde over for the tutoring session.

The older man stood at the top of the staircase and looked from his nephew to the tall blonde boy next to him. "Oh, you brought a friend."

Zexion was surprised to see Demyx straighten up, a sort of nervous expression in his countenance. "Good afternoon, sir. I'm guessing you're Zexy-um, _Zexion's_ dad, right?"

"My uncle," the slate-haired teen corrected, and Auron nodded. "He's staying here on account of his transfer at work."

"Chief of police," Auron specified. "I actually start at that position tomorrow, which is why I'm here today." He gave Zexion an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Zexion, I don't mean to impose."

"Not at all, Uncle Auron," the teen returned with a slight smile. He glanced over at the swimmer beside him. "I'm just helping a classmate study, so we'll be in my room."

"Alright, if you boys need anything," he held up a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ pointedly, "I'll be taking care of some light reading. Zexion, you owe me."

"I just take pride in knowing you fell before I did," Zexion said, beginning to climb up the stairs, Demyx close in tow. As Auron chuckled and returned to his room and the slate-haired teen led the way to his, Demyx stared at him in amusement. It sort of made him uneasy, so he quickly opened the door to his room and settled his binder onto his desk. "Well, here we are," he announced. "Please don't touch anything; I'd like everything to remain as immaculate as possible."

"Does immaculate mean freakishly, Twilight-Zone-clean?" Demyx asked incredulously, his eyes wandering from the desk, to the neatly made bed, then to the stainless carpet. "Does the word 'decoration' mean anything to you? I can actually _see_ your floor!"

"Yes, the world is a mysterious place sometimes…" retorted the teen blandly. He searched through his drawer and found a plain black barrette. Clipping back his bangs, he went through his binder and pulled out his copy of The Scarlet Letter. "Alright, Nathanial Hawthorne… Let's see what you can do with him… What?"

At present, Demyx was staring at him with a stunned expression: lips slightly apart in a gape, and aqua eyes wide, captivated, it seemed. Zexion felt his blood get hot and rush all over his body. A little impatiently, he snapped, "Demyx, we can't get anything started if you just stand there like an-"

"Y-you, um… You actually pulled back your bangs," he noted quietly.

Zexion's heartbeat sped up, but kept the scowl on his face. "Is that observation really what's got you so appalled?" he asked incredulously. Huffing, he said, "I just gathered that using these accessories are much easier for keeping my hair back rather than brushing it aside all the time when I study. Granted, I'll never do this at school-"

"Why not? You look…" Demyx stopped, any possible adjective lingering in the air.

The slate-haired teen fidgeted, busying himself by looking through his binder for notes that didn't even exist. Actually, this was the first time he had his bangs back. The barrettes he obtained from a box kept in the closet. One day for her birthday, his mother had given Fuu the accessories, but after she left, they were put away and forgotten. The night he took them, he holed himself in the bathroom, 1) to figure out how to put on the damn things, and 2) to see some sort of appeal in his appearance when he had them on. This was, of course, after he realized his relationship with Demyx. And he didn't see what was so amazing about his face: his nose was small and eyes a bit too wide, like the swimmer's.

But in his defense, it really was less bothersome than simply brushing his hair aside then having it fall back. He still felt naked for sure, but willed himself not to get the girly thing out of his hair.

"Okay," he finally said, sitting down on his desk chair. "Let's just get started with this. I know the English classes don't officially start reading until Wednesday, but with your nonexistent prior knowledge of anything before 2005… What are you doing _now_?"

"Nothing, just checking out your room."

Zexion sighed. "This isn't a museum, you know."

But Demyx ignored him, browsing the large bookshelf. Zexion huffed again, flipping aside the bangs that weren't even in his face. He began to think maybe it really was a mistake to bring the blonde here. He should've persisted more, or maybe he should've hung up when he picked up the phone and heard that cheerful voice on the other line.

_He's making me into such an _idiot…

After a few seconds of watching the silent blonde, Zexion began to get annoyed. "You're not going to find any books of your interest in there," he assured, albeit icily.

"You have so many," Demyx observed in awe. He laughed softly. "And yet…for all this knowledge… I can't find a single book about Zexy. I'm hoping somewhere in here is a book about you."

Zexion found himself narrowing his eyes. "Why on Earth would such a thing exist?" He shook his head. "You're so simple-minded, really…"

"But if there was a book about Zexy, maybe I'd be able to learn something about him," Demyx said, voice quiet still. He turned and locked his large oceanic eyes to the shorter teen. "I mean, I didn't even know Fuu was your sister. Heck, I didn't even know you _had_ a sister."

"Present tense, Demyx, she's still related to me."

"Either way, I didn't know. I thought I told you I consider you a friend."

"It doesn't mean you have to know every solitary thing about me," Zexion defended, because he certainly did remember when Demyx told him that. It was the same day he realized why his body warmed up near the blonde, why he never left his thoughts for long…

"Which is why a book would be pretty helpful, huh?" joked the swimmer.

"Just keep wishing, Demyx Watera..." Zexion pointed over at his bed. "You can sit there while we study."

"Yes, Mr. Anderson, sir," lilted Demyx, sitting on the bed. As his hands smoothed over the blankets, he began, "So... This here _Scarlet Letter_... I'm thinking a red 'A'..."

The slate-haired teen smirked. "Nice to know you can observe a _cover_."

"It's a start, isn't it?" the blonde insisted, taking out his own copy of the book from his backpack. Zexion tried not to notice the disorganization in the inside of it. At one point in the session, as Zexion was explaining Puritan beliefs, he asked Demyx a question to quiz him on the subject. What he got for an answer though, was a soft smile and incredible eyes that seemed to adore him. "You really do look...handsome without your hair in your face."

Zexion threw his book at him, trying hard to keep hs blood pressure down. "Water. Clogged. Idiot!"

"I bet all the girls would chase you!" Demyx laughed, holding his arms up in defense. "The boys, too!" He ducked as another book was chucked at him, laughing as Zexion felt light sensations in his chest, almost lifting him.

Yeah, maybe he could get used to Demyx Watera at his house.

* * *

**End A/N: **And there we have it, folks! A complete update! And not a second too soon because my family's Thanksgiving dinner is now ready :P Time to get fat, lmao!

I hope everyone has a happy thanksgiving...even if it is a lie...and about people killing each other... (You'd be surprised at how much of a downer history can be :P) Of course, I'm not sure when I'll updat again. It's pretty likely I'll only update once more before the school year ends. Then again, given my schedule, you all might have to wait until summer. Yup, 'tis very sad. Next chapter will have conflicts! Please review :D I'm thankful for you guys, and for caring for my fic when I am absent. Only this emoticon can express what you mean to me: :'D (Tears of Joy).

Now if you'll excuse meh, I smell asparagus :D (Am I worthy of a review after so long?)


	9. Fact: Empathy Goes Against Egotism

**A/N: **See? I told you I'd update when school ended. xD I finally kept a promise! -ray of light shines down on her- BEHOLD MY AWESOME POWER! -gets shot down by Zeus-

So anyways... -twiddles thumbs- there were a lot of songs I listened to keep me going. I like having little theme songs/jams when I write. And even though I hate Avril Lavigne (I like her older stuff...) I couldn't stop myself from thinking _I'm With You_ was a good match for this chapter. Maybe it's just me? I don't know, listen to the song yourself and decide! 8D

For **Melodious Zombie**. Sorry for the wait D: I hope this chapter does not disappoint! :D

Please enjoy!

_**Fact: Empathy Goes Against Egotism**_

But this wasn't going to keep up. He couldn't let it. These damn walls were there for a _reason_. Walls weren't meant to be torn down. That's why they were created in the first place. For this placid exterior to crumble; for this cold heart to dream of warmth...it went against everything.

It would mean he was all wrong. And Zexion was _never_ wrong. He knew the facts. He knew what was true and he knew what hurt. The best thing was that he knew how to avoid it all – all the mistakes that people made on a daily basis. But he had the upper hand in life, because he knew the logic, applied the reason...

...And no damned happy-go-lucky blonde was going to change that.

* * *

The only light in his room was form the silver over-head lamp on his desk. A notebook was sprawled open in front of him, and a pen was fervently filling it up with lines of words:

_If there was an ocean_

_That could absolve all my uncertainty,_

_Surely I would find you there_

_To grab my hand before the tides took me_

_If there was an endless field_

_Where I could wander and die,_

_Surely I would find you there_

_To chase the comfort from my mind_

He licked his lips, trying to transfer everything in his mind to the tips if his fingers and onto paper in coherent words.

_There's a reason, I know, _

_That you keep appearing to me_

_But whether you're the poison or the cure_

_I'm not sure..._

_I don't know who you're supposed to be_

After a minute of the pen's ballpoint tip lingering on the page, Zexion finally emitted a frustrated sigh. In a burst of agitation, he flung his pen across the room with a cry and buried his face in his hands.

It was the third night in a row he stayed up at night, just writing continuously. It was as if the shadowed security that night brought was what allowed Zexion to write so freely in the first place. His thought, his _feelings_ were exposed, only to be shrouded by the dark hours. This was how Zexion was supposed to balance himself again and regain the equilibrium he so valued. But as the days went by, the late-night writing sessions became more desperate, words pouring out more frantically. The ink filled the pages, but didn't fill the uncertainty and apprehension stabbing the teen's chest constantly.

_Get rid of it, get rid of it._..! He repeated it over and over in his mind like a madman, engraving it in his head whenever it felt like its effect was slipping. His breaths were shallow and he was sweating. _Get __rid of it. Make it go away, get out of my head... I don't want it... I DON'T WANT IT_!

"This...," he began in despair, "isn't working."

* * *

Zexion was at the front desk where Selphie worked, a note pad in his hand and writing down whatever the brunette told him to.

"...And out in the back are our the empty boxes from the Halloween shipments; don't get rid of all of them just yet. We'll wait until October ends for that. Which reminds me, get Xaldin to fix the Halloween display he put up – it's scaring poor children, which wards off customers!"

"Alright."

"Also," continued Selphie, counting off on her fingers, "remind Marluxia at some point that he needs to take out those dying lilies from the greenhouse. I know he has an obsession with flowers and all that, but presentation of merchandise is principle."

"Got it..."

"Ohmygosh! I can't believe I was going to forget this! Speaking of dying, Quistis had to take the week off to attend to family matters." Her green eyes looked up at Zexion hopefully, her fingers laced together. "So I'm going to rework you into her duties, alright? You'll be in co-charge of the pharmancy until she gets back. Vexen will show you how to do things there."

"Starting today?"

Selphie blinked. "Um, yes. Don't worry, Zex, it won't be like double-shifting or whatever. Roxanne is enough help and I'm sure she won't-"

"Alright, I've got it," the slate-haired teen replied tersely, but it lacked any usual bite his tone had. He closed up his pad and looked at Selphie blankly. "Is that all?"

The brunette offered an up-beat smile. "Yup-yup! That's it!"

"Then I'll get started."

"Ah, Zex is being such a good boy today~!" cheered Selphie. "Did you finally start taking vitamins?"

Zexion almost rolled his eyes. _No, that's not it at all._.. Just as he was about to get started on his first task, Roxanne Keyli was standing in front of him, with a look on her face that suggested she had been waiting for him.

She licked her lips with her usual air of awkwardness, but with a determined breath, her large blue eyes looked up at him. "Um... Hi, Zexion," she greeted, waving weakly.

The teen nodded in distant acknowledgment. "Morning."

Her hands buried themselves in her jean pockets, her eyes just staring at his chest as she spoke. "Hey, uh, are you...okay? I mean, maybe it's just me, but, uh...you seem a bit out of it lately."

"Out of it?" Had it been obvious? Zexion had – for lack of better words – _hoped_ that he had been behaving as he normally had. He tried to calm himself and he constantly kept his thoughts in check so something like 'being out if it' was impossible.

Apparently, he hadn't tried hard enough.

Roxanne nodded. "Is everything...alright?"

"I never even stated yet whether or not I am ailing," Zexion pointed out, evading the question. He didn't – _couldn't_ – let anyone know about his weird thoughts. Especially Roxanne, who was connected to the source of this craziness in the first place. He could handle it all himself. Totally. Completely.

...He could...handle it...

Tentative fingers brushed against his arm, the same one with the scars that he always tried to cover with his long sleeves. "No, I can tell," Roxanne said to him, a peculiar look in her azure eyes that suggested deep empathy. "You're not tired or mad or whatever excuses people say all the time. It's like you're yourself...but you're...different at the same time."

_I'm "me," but I'm...not "me"_? Zexion had to admit, he didn't quite understand it. Then Roxanne said something that sent a strong surge of fear down his chest.

"It seems like you're resisting something. Like yourself."

Zexion almost staggered from the sudden heavy feeling inside himself. He could feel panic rise, bubbling high in his chest and head. For a second, he lost his breath. But he composed himself once more – he was quite good at that, even at times like this.

And it was only then did he realize.

"Roxanne...if I may comment-"

Her blue eyes suddenly got wide behind her glasses. "Oh God! P-please forget that! I didn't mean it like that! I-I know it sounded, um, weird." She waved her hands frantically, avoiding eye-contact with him. "Nothing's wrong with you! Nothing! I'm sorry I made a scene of it! I-It's just a-!"

"No, really... It's...fine," Zexion said, slowly trailing off. Luckily, the panicking blond girl relaxed some, an abashed expression on her face. "You don't have to apologize. I told you that."

"Y-yeah...you did..." In the silence, Zexion decided that he'd best get to work on Selphie's list, otherwise he might not get off shift as early as he thought. Before he could act, Roxanne asked, "Hey, Zexion? What were you about to say? You wanted to, uh, 'comment' on something?"

"Oh, that..." He ran a hand through his hair as he elaborated, "I was merely going to remark on your behavior."

"My behavior?"

"Yes, I can't help but notice that you've seem to undergo a variation yourself. That is to say," he looked at her intently, "just now, you spoke to me without a hint of hesitation. You seemed...confident. You made eye-contact with me, didn't stutter, and," he brushed his arm lightly, "even touched me. Past experiences lead me to conclude that a 'same you' would never had done any of that."

Roxanne blinked, a confused expression on her countenance, but it soon changed to something more solemn. "O-oh really." It wasn't a question. She knew what he was talking about, but just didn't want to admit it to herself.

_Like I am_, Zexion briefly thought. He pulled out his notepad and flipped through the pages to review Selphie's list. "Agreed. But please, for the record, there is nothing on my mind. Now if you'll excuse me," he turned around, "I should be getting started on my chores."

"Ah, Zexion! Don't...don't lie, please!"

"...Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, but...I don't think that the 'old Zexion,'" she began, "would have noticed me change. He wouldn't have."

The slate-haired teen narrowed his eyes. "What evidence could you possibly have to back up that conclusion?"

"That's easy." Her voice was wavering, but she didn't stop advancing. "But I think there's...someone else who you should be talking to this about."

"I don't _have_ anyone," Zexion stated firmly, turning to her slowly.

"You haven't talked to Demyx lately? I'm sure he notices."

What in the name of knowledge was _wrong_ with Roxanne today? Did Demyx's whole stupid family have to be so worried and prying and nice and frickin' all up in his stupid business? And anyway, Demyx wouldn't notice anything because there was nothing _to_ notice! Zexion just had to work harder at hiding it. Maybe writing just wasn't the answer. Maybe he'd become a balloon-headed irrational teenager like all the rest of them – because right at that moment, he just _really_ wanted to punch something.

"And why would he be _endowed_ with this ability?" the teen mocked, crossing his arms. He tried to tone down his anger in order not to intimidate the blond-haired girl. He required a real, satisfactory answer from her.

Roxanne shifted her weight on her feet and then, her voice lower, replied simply, "Because you two are friends. You know what he's like."

Light-blue eyes blinked in surprise. He and Demyx...friends? Really, what a ridiculous notion, and he was about to tell Roxanne as much when he remembered words spoken to him on a certain swimmer's porch one windy day. "_Look, Zexy, you may not think much of our time together, but I consider you a __friend. And when I see my friends hurt, I want to know what's happening to them_."

Yes...perhaps he did know Demyx. At the very least, he knew more about that idiot than he did three months ago. And it was fact that Demyx was the type of person to stay by someone he cared about and try to help them.

That was just fact.

Roxanne added hastily, "Of course, w-we could be friends, too, if you wanted. I know I'm very awkward and I annoy you a lot and Demyx is already very close to you..."

_Annoying_...

She shuffled slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Still, my cousin likes you a lot. And I get to talk to you like this, so I just...I-I want to help you when he's not around."

_So annoying_...

"Look," Zexion said so suddenly and sharply that it almost came out as a command. Roxanne jumped and locked eyes with him. "I'm not..." He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. "Such blatant shows of affection and...and sincerity..." The teen was fairly sure his expression was a bit miserable. "Those kinds of things I'm not accustomed to, Roxanne."

"Why not?" But as soon as the words left her lips, she slapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks growing red. "O-Oh God, I did it again!"

"No, don't be ashamed with your questions," Zexion murmured. "It displays your interest in knowing the facts, is all." He looked idly around at people shopping all around them. "Now if you'll-"

"Excuse me, do you work here?" A woman with two little girls had suddenly come up next to the two teenagers. She was looking at Roxanne imploringly.

"Ah, y-yes, ma'am! H-How can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you had any more of this particular brand of shampoo...?"

"Oh, um, well," she gestured down the store, "I'll take you down the aisle and help you from there. Er, right this way..." She gave Zexion a quick glance before disappearing amongst the crowd of customers, leaving the slate-haired teen to his thoughts.

And they weren't any better than the ones before. Even worse, that stupid ache in his chest had come back.

He really hated his life right now.

* * *

Later on in the day, a boy Zexion never met came up to him asking for Roxanne. At the time, the teen had been on his way to the medical section to start his duties in assisting Vexen.

"Just some business here and then it's over," he mumbled to himself wearily. He didn't know were his strength went today, but he suspected all the things that Roxanne said to him earlier had something to do with it. As he checked off the last few things off of Selphie's list, there was a tap on his shoulder, making his body suddenly heat up. He turned, but found he wasn't staring into aquamarine eyes, but light-brown ones, which were widened a bit in surprise.

"Whoa, did a spook you?" the boy asked, cocking his head. "Didn't mean anything by it." He held up his hands innocently.

Zexion let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Soon after, he mentally reprimanded himself for daring to think for an instant that he'd been about to face Demyx. He had to remember how his stress levels tended to heighten around the blond.

"Can I assist you with something?" the teen asked with his usual bland vigor.

A light scowl appeared on the boy's face. "What, are you sayin' you don't recognize me?" he asked, crossing his arms.

Really, it's like people thought Zexion had nothing better to do other than memorize their names and faces. He'd have studied their damn – oh, what was it called? - _Facebook_ if he wanted that!

Zexion observed the boy's face just a second longer until it seemed vaguely familiar to him. "No, my apologies, I can't recall you," he mumbled finally.

The boy waved a hand dismissively. "That's fine. You're always spacing out in a textbook anyway. I sit with you at breakfast sometimes with Roxanne, Olette and the others."

He ate breakfast with other people? Oh wait, that's right, Demyx had started hanging more with that Axle girl so he kept dragging Zexion over to a table with her and her friends. The teen usually chose to ignore all of them by studying...and sneaking peeks of the swimmer over his book. If asked, Zexion could tell you just what Demyx liked to eat for breakfast and how he absolutely hated orange juice with added sugar, or how with his pancakes the blonde preferred-

"Oh yes, I remember now," Zexion replied, if anything to shut up his brain. Which was difficult when you were Zexion. It was like trying to make apples fall up. Luckily, his memory finally began to serve him and he said, "You're Hayner. You're...going out with Roxanne, right?"

"Yup, it'll be two weeks on Monday," Hayner proclaimed happily. "So, Zexion, right? Think you can help me find her?"

"What, a savior to save your soul?" mocked the teen.

Hayner chuckled, albeit it seemed forced. "Yeah, she told me you were funny. I'm talking about Roxanne. She works here, right?"

"I sure hope so, otherwise you came all the way and had this meaningful conversation for naught." Zexion sighed and brushed his long hair momentarily away from his eyes. "Let's see, if I'm right, she should be filling in for some of my work. She's probably out at the greenhouse helping Marluxia water the plants."

"Great! Thanks, dude!" exclaimed Hayner before he went off toward the greenhouse near the back of the store.

Zexion huffed. The things teenagers called another nowadays...

As the teen was getting back to the pharmacy, he suddenly heard a commotion behind the medication aisle. And there were voices – female voices. One that Zexion suddenly identified to be Roxanne's. _What is she doing here_? How troublesome, now he'd have to tell her that her boyfriend was looking for her. It would have been more convenient for Hayner to-

"Axle, please, you have to st-stop doing this."

"I'm not going to. I can't. I...I just..."

Zexion peeked his head around the corner, seeing Axle pinning Roxanne to a wall. The blonde was holding onto Axle's arms tightly, her head down. The slate-haired teen debated whether or not he should interrupt them when they began talking again.

"Look, you've told me what it's like with him," Axle began, a hand breaking from the wall to run through blond hair. "And I know you don't like him that way. So why are you deciding to stay with him?"

Roxanne paused a moment before answering. "You...you already know why. He likes me. That's enough," she murmured.

Axle cupped the blonde's face, gently forcing her to look up at her. Zexion couldn't stop himself from checking to see if any customers were going to walking by. He looked back when Axle said, "I like you, too. So why isn't _that_ enough? Do I really have to be a _boy_ for you to want to be with me?"

You have to be shitting Zexion. Closet lesbian talk? REALLY?

_They talk as if they've had this conversation before_, the teen noted, watching an argument that sounded rehearsed it'd been recited so much.

"I...I don't..." Roxanne's words were getting choked up. "I don't know what I want. I just... Axle, I don't want to hurt anybody. I can't take that responsibility. It kills me that...that I'm hurting you." Zexion saw her tighten her hold on Axle's arms. "I don't want to. But please, please understand. You're asking me to be the person that people having been criticizing and...and ridiculing for years!"

If Zexion had been Demyx, he might of wished for popcorn at that moment. But that was scientifically impossible not to mention just plain disturbing, so the teen opted to just keep listening. He knew what Roxanne was talking about though. If he remembered correctly, a rumor had spread about her being a lesbian. Not that sexual preference was an _important_ matter for Zexion, but he did recall her being the punchline to a lot of homosexual jokes.

So the rumors were fact.

_That's it, then_. The change in Roxanne. The resistance in her that she saw in him: she wanted to be with Axle but couldn't.

_She's just making herself suffer_, Zexion found himself thinking. Then he frowned when he realized just how peculiar that thought had been. Would he have thought something like that before? Would he have _cared_ to even comment?

"I love you, Roxanne," Axle said, her head dipping lower. Zexion saw her lips brush against Roxanne's neck.

The blond flushed, shaking her head. "No."

"I love you." A kiss on her cheek.

Roxanne wavered, not speaking. A tear ran down her cheek. Zexion was reasoning with himself that he should just walk away and erase it all from his mind when the blonde murmured, "I know. I know. Axle...I..." A sob escaped her throat. Her hands suddenly held both sides of Axle's face. "I love you, too. I love you...the same way. _That_ way. B-but... But Hayner..."

An unsure smile was on Axle's face. "That...that's fine, Roxy," she said in a consoling way. "You don't have to say it all. This...this is more than enough for now. I won't..." She took a breath, bringing a hand up to meet Roxanne's. "I won't make you into a cheater."

Roxanne smiled too, but her lips kept quivering for it to last long. "Thank...you, Axle." Her voice was so soft her gratitude may as well have been inaudible.

Zexion blinked once, twice, about four more times before walking away.

Hiding from yourself. But admitting it, and trying to uncover yourself. Zexion wondered how relieved Roxanne was. But somewhere in his head...the teen just _tried_ to imagine saying to someone you loved them.

He couldn't. How could he? Fear momentarily flickered in his chest. _Why am I scared_?

If you asked Zexion what he learned from Vexen about pharmacy procedures, he probably wouldn't be able to tell you anything. He was too busy examining and reexamining the events as of late. The things he'd been writing into his notebooks, the words Roxanne said to him, the words she said to Axle and Zexion was _scared_ of the latter especially.

He couldn't call it jealousy. No, it was bigger than that. Now he couldn't look at Roxanne the same way because she was vastly **different** from him, no matter _what_ she may think. She **felt** things, things that some people couldn't even experience, much less things that Zexion couldn't even _begin_ to fathom. She was just too different and it was scary.

Zexion was scared – of the emotions she was experiencing and he'd never experience.

Of the words she confessed and he never even allowed himself to admit.

* * *

And love was such a curious notion in the first place. The way children, teenagers, even adults just tossed the word around. They murmured it as if it were nothing. Probably because it really _wasn't_ anything special.

"_Zexion, you love your family, don't you_?"

_Please stop_, the teen thought pitifully. _Stop looking into me_...!

"_You loved your mother a lot, and that's why it hurts."_

"_Hurts? Something is supposed to be _hurt?"

"**What's supposed to hurt**!" Zexion shouted, his hands balling into fists as he slammed them down on his desk.

From where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Demyx jumped, staring up at Zexion in surprise. "Zexy, are you okay? What're you thinking of?" he asked, slowly discarding his binder and copy of _The Scarlet Letter _to the floor.

Oh, the book. English. Tutoring. It all immediately pieced together in the slate-haired teen's mind. Demyx had come over to work on an essay they were to complete for the novel. He had prompted Demyx to brainstorm the themes in it.

"How 'bout love? There's the whole jealousy thing with Chillingworth, and Hester just wants to be together with Dimmesdale."

After that, Zexion began to zone out. His thoughts had strayed and he no longer heard Demyx talking. Memories had come back to him, from when he and Fuu had been sent to therapy, and he got angry. He could still feel the burning sensations in his chest as they faded.

The teen focused at Demyx, who was frowning with uncharacteristic seriousness. "I wasn't thinking," he said evasively, and none too subtle at that.

"Well, that's a first for Zexy..." Demyx's frown deepened and his lips might have even made a pout that was supposed to be a scowl. He got up and sat on the bed, which was right next to the slate-haired teen's desk. A warm tan hand squeezed Zexion's shoulder. "And for the record, people don't randomly shout out things like that when they are thinking of nothing." He tapped Zexion's forehead in the last few words.

"Stop that," the teen growled, slapping the hand away. "Come on, Demyx Watera, I thought we were trying to work on your essay." He leered pointedly at the blank paper on the floor. "You don't even have a _thesis_ yet!"

Demyx sighed lightly, literally rolling onto the floor. "Yeah, yeah, just ignore the blond guy. He doesn't have the _depth_ to understand anybody!" he declared melodramatically. He hugged his copy of _The Scarlet Letter_ to his chest. "How sad I am. Zexy doesn't even _trust_ me!"

Now it was Zexion's turn to sigh. And roll his eyes. "Demyx, your behavi-"

"Is this how you felt all that time, Hester? Being neglected for so long because your lover ignored you and didn't _appreciate_ the fact that you were always _there_ for him and always _loved_ him!"

Heat rushed to Zexion's face. "Sh-shut up! Don't compare us to a husband and wife!"

Demyx stopped and rolled onto his back, still hugging his book when he looked up at Zexion. "So you'll tell me what you were thinking about?" he asked sweetly, feigning innocence.

The expression should've been one that revolted the teen, or at least annoyed the crap out of him, but instead it was...a bit...cute.

Excuse Zexion while he shot a certain part of his brain.

"Look, if I tell you, will you stop saying such queer things – and I mean that in several definitions."

That perked the blonde up. He jolted back onto the bed and replaced his book with Zexion's pillow. "Yes, I promise!" he exclaimed, staring intently at the teen with his wide aqua eyes.

Zexion frowned, holding up a hand. "It's really not so crucial and life-altering. Don't make it seem like I'm telling a big secret." Except, well, it sort of _was_. No one knew about what Zexion was going to say except his family. It was the first time he was revealing something to a jock, an outsider, to anyone.

And like always, it was like Demyx could register his thoughts without even having to hear them out loud. He offered a warm smile, shrugging. "Anything Zexy says about himself is a big secret. No one else knows because you never say anything about yourself," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "So I'm a bit excited."

"Well aren't you going to find yourself disappointed," smirked the teen. He laid back on his chair and looked distantly off at the wall. "I wasn't thinking of anything important. I just started remembering a time about three years ago. I...used to see a therapist. It's really nothing special."

Zexion had no idea why he revealed that. Now Demyx was going to bother the hell out of him with that information, probably wanting more. Or he might even tell it to his cousin and then he'd be interrogated at work. He should've just lie-

"I hear they suck."

A light-blue stare suddenly broke away from the colorless wall to gaze into pools of aqua. "What?"

"The therapists," Demyx reminded as casually as if they were talking about the weather. "I don't know about adults, but I hear teenagers seriously hate therapists. Knew a guy once in middle school who had one and said it was a nightmare. Everywhere it was just white that they tried to cover up with stupid photographs and certificates. He said he never felt safe there because it was like...like his mind was being forced open."

Zexion stared, speechless.

Demyx seemed to take that as a bad sign. "Aaaaah...but of course, yours could've been cool. I mean I don't know and all." He cleared his throat. "Uh, if it-"

"It was exactly like that," the slate-haired teen murmured, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Every time felt like that. I...hated it."

There was a weird pause afterward that neither Zexion or Demyx knew how to break. They just sat there, Demyx staring at him and the teen's eyes suddenly finding a fascination with the swimmer's hands, which were still holding onto his pillow. But the hands suddenly moved, and one reach out to find leverage as that body slowly moved toward him. Zexion's head scrambled to think of something to talk about, anything to halt that movement, to stop his heart from beating so fast...

"You don't have to-"

The binder that Demyx's hand had found toppled to the ground, flipping over the notebooks on top of it and sending the swimmer crashing downward. Papers flew out and Zexion swirled his chair around to investigate what happened.

"Demy-" But Zexion stopped right there, the rest of his sentence replaced with a yelp as the blonde landed on his lap. Well, his head did. And his face was sort of...in an awkward place. It only took the teen a split-second to react by shoving Demyx away. "G-get _off_ me, Demyx Watera!"

"Ah, sorry, sorry!" the blonde immediately began to apologize profusely, pink filling his cheeks. "I didn't mean to land there! I swear, I... Zexy, are you okay?"

At the same time the swimmer had been talking, Zexion had moved his chair far away, hugging his knees to his chest and avoiding all eye-contact with Demyx. Most of all, he had swept his hair in front of his face to hide just how red it was.

Demyx gave an awkward laugh. "Ah, we can just go straight to forgetting about this. Did I hurt you?" he asked, tone a touch more concerned. When Zexion didn't answer, he came over and crouched down to peer into that hidden face. A devious grin was on his face, which was never a good omen when you were with Demyx.

"Then," he began slyly, sliding a large hand up Zexion's leg, "could it be that little Zexy got _excited_? Just from that? Wow, you're so _sensiti_-!"

"Shut up!" the teen exclaimed, slapping the hand away. In his defense, he really _hadn't_ gotten aroused. But if kept thinking about it – kept thinking that the only thing at had separated Demyx from his skin, that his breath was hot, or was that now how it felt _there_? Zexion put down his legs, glaring down at the blonde below him. "I'm not anything! I just...don't like it when you touch me, much less there," he said crossly.

Demyx looked surprised, then his expression quickly turned embarrassed. "Sorry. But you know I'm just joking." Then just like that, the swimmer was back to his upbeat self. "Zexy takes things so seriously. Even though he knows that if he was so sensitive, I could help him out with it."

A chill ran down Zexion's spine, as if someone's finger had traced down his back. He looked pointedly over at the mess on the floor to try to distract himself from thinking about Demyx's words. "And now you've gone and made my papers disorganized."

"Lemme help you!" insisted the swimmer as Zexion got up to begin picking them up. As the teen was filing papers back into his binder, he heard Demyx mumbling something. He chose to ignore it until the blonde asked in astonishment, "Zexy, I didn't know you wrote!"

"What are you on about now?"

"This! What's this you've been hiding from the world?" Demyx was holding onto one of Zexion's notebooks and the teen wasn't too upset until he realized _which_ notebook it was. The blonde was flipping through the pages now, eyes glinting in interest. "Wow, you've written a whole bunch. Is that what all these-?"

"Demyx, please give that to me."

"Huh? Are they like a whole bunch of _love letters_?"

Zexion reached out and snatched the notebook away. "No, they're not. You don't know anything!" He shook the notebook in Demyx's face. "**Don't touch this ever again**! Surely someone with even your brain capacity can understand that!" He was shouting, and he didn't know why. He should be calm, should be brushing it off...

Just like Demyx was doing, even though hurt was clearly etched on his face. "Why are you so upset? Is it because I found something that just maybe proves you have a soul after all?" he asked bitterly. "Are you mad because someone you...hate saw into you a little bit?"

As Demyx said 'hate,' his voice got a little bit softer. Zexion pretended not to notice, mentally shooting himself for have the immediate thought of...

"I never said I hated you, Demyx Watera," the slate-haired teen said, glad that his voice once more sounded composed.

That caused the blonde to snort. "I should be jumping for joy, but somehow I don't feel like it..." He let out a deep breath slowly, turning to Zexion. "So does that mean...we're friends after all?"

Zexion for once didn't know how to answer. He and Demyx...friends? Could it really happen? Could Zexion do it? "...I never..." He frowned, hugging his notebook to him and waiting – waiting for the stupid swimmer to finish his thoughts like he always could.

He wasn't disappointed. "Lexy is your friend, you know. But you wouldn't know it," Demyx began, lightly shoving the shorter teen, "because you're so hell-bent on not having one. And my cousin has been telling me she feels good around you, and that you're actually being a little friendly to her."

Zexion made the mental note to chew Roxanne out later, but then decided against it.

"And look, now you've got the amazing me!" finished the blonde with a wink. "We'll take care of you. It's what friends do."

"Is that it? That's all friends do?"

"Yeah. Looking out for each other, cheering one up when they're down, hanging out, being yourself... There's a lot of – how would you say it, Zexy? - _benefits_ to friends."

Zexion picked at the sprial wiring of his notebook. "I suppose it is...admissible."

Demyx laughed. "Hey, can you de-SAT-ify your words?"

The teen swept some hair out of his face – he hadn't worn the clips today – and restated, "I'll consider."

That caused Demyx to cross his arms, pouting. "Zexy, you must be the first teenager pre-Facebook to pend a friendship request." He chuckled at his won joke, and the slate-haired teen couldn't help but smile just the tiniest bit as well. A finger tapped against his notebook suddenly. "But you know, that really is good stuff there. I like you, Zexy, but I have a feeling I'd like you more once I knew what kinds of things went on inside your heart."

"My heart? You'll find nothing there but atrium and-"

"Whoa, we're not talking rocket science, Professor Anderson," Demyx interrupted. "I'm talking about your _heart_ heart. Like your feelings, your emotions...your thoughts when you don't let your mind control them." He prodded the teen's temple for emphasis.

Zexion shook his head. "Demyx, one cannot think without a mind. Really, are you one of those individuals that believes emotion stems from the heart? How absurd."

"That's not what it says in your notebook there," the swimmer pointed out, gesturing to the black spiral. "And...if you still need convincing, I can show you a thing or two."

"And what is this epic demonstration, _Professor Watera_?" mocked the teen.

"I'll show you one day. One day," Demyx promised insistently, seemingly more to himself than to Zexion. He then began gathering papers again. "C'mon, let's clear up the rest of this. It's getting time for me to go. Ma will ground me until the next Ice Age if I don't help out with dinner today."

"Just put those in the binder. I'll organize them later. I'm going to the bathroom." He opened a random drawer from his desk and quickly stuffed his notebook into it.

On his way out of the bathroom, he met Auron, who seemed to have just arrived as he was still in his uniform. "Hey, Zexion, what's with the ruckus upstairs? I heard quite a bit of shouting. Is anything wrong?"

Zexion huffed, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing, Uncle. That ruckus is because of Demyx. He's getting to be so...aggravating. He keeps making all these inquiries pertaining to myself. I mean, he's always done it, but it's getting worse as of late." He sighed wearily as if for emphasis. "So why are you home so late?"

"I'm afraid I'll be later, but just tonight. I came to pick up a few things." Auron tilted his head questioningly. "What kind of things does he ask you?"

"Meaningless things. Like what's my favorite color or movie or place to be. He asks me about Fuujin sometimes. He asks me about the books I read in class and who my favorite author is. You know he informed me he actually read Charles Baudelaire?"

"That so?" Auron took a seat on one of the chairs in the living room. "He's just trying to get to know you then."

"There's no need for him to, though."

Auron shrugged his broad shoulders. "We can't help who wants to meet us. Making a bond of some sort is inevitable in any story," he said knowingly. "Similarly, we can choose to immediately ignore or sever those bonds. But we need to realize that some characters are important for our story to progress."

Zexion let out a breath. When it came to advice, his uncle always made a correlation to a story. It usually put things in perspective for the teen, but this time he found himself repelled by the words. "Life isn't a fictional story though, Uncle," he pointed out, crossing his arms.

"Oh, maybe not word-for-word," agreed Auron loosely. "However, everyone has a story, Zexion, and it's about time you let yours unfold. Starting with this Demyx. I think he could help you."

Zexion was about to comment when he heard feet thudding down the stairs. In less than a second, Demyx was next to him, his hand ruffling his hair, his other arm holding his binder and book. "Hey, sorry but I really got to go, Zexy. Can I call you after dinner?"

"Sorry, but I have a Statistics project to prepare."

"Aw, fine," groaned the blonde. "Then if it's okay – uh, with you too, Mr. Auron sir and Zexy's dad – I want you to come to a Halloween party my friend's girlfriend is having. Before you say anything, I swear it won't be anything really bad. She's a good student like you and follows the rules and all. It'll still be fun though! Lexy can't go because he'll be with... Well, you can come, right? Please say you will!"

Oh great, another party invitation. Zexion didn't know what made Demyx think he'd ever agree to it. He always refused because he couldn't stand being around so many people.

"Is it costume?" Auron suddenly asked.

"It can be, but it's not like it's required."

The policeman turned to his nephew. "Well, you should go, Zexion. You deserve a night out with your friends."

"What?" Zexion said numbly.

"Pleeeeeease, Zexy~?" lilted the swimmer, suddenly hugging him.

"Okay, okay! I'll go! Now let go of me!" But instead of doing so, Demyx seemed to hug him harder.

"Really, Zexy! You'll come? Ah, such a wonderful day this has turned out to be!" He let go and headed to the door, a huge grin on his face. "Oh, I better go then before you change your mind. See you tomorrow, Zexy!"

"Just hurry up and get out."

Demyx saluted. "Aye, sir. But before I do," he winked at the slate-haired teen. "_Sen-si-tiiive_~"

"GET. OUT." Zexion growled, shutting the door after the blonde, who was laughing as he went to his car.

It wasn't until the car started and drove away did Auron look at his nephew questioningly. "What did-"

"I try not to think about it," was all Zexion could reply. He rounded on his uncle, scowling. "Why did you force me into that?"

"Like I said, I believe he is good for you."

A light blush colored Zexion's face. "Th-that's just... That is..." He huffed and bounded up the stairs. "That's a completely unsatisfactory answer!" he finally finished, somewhat melodramatically as he closed the door to his room. He found that the remaining mess on the floor had been stacked back onto his desk. Well, whatever. He'd sort it out later.

His bed seemed softer and cozier than before as he flopped down on it. _I must be really tired_. No surprise, really. Being around Demyx always wore him out. _And he's been so annoying lately. How can Uncle Auron really believe he is good for me_?

_A warm smile, like the soothing rays of the sun had been absorbed in it. "I like you, Zexy..."_

_He likes me_. Zexion's heartbeat sounded heavily in his ears. He pulled his pillow to him and grumbled incoherent things in it, blushing. "Stupid me, stupid me..." He took a deep breath and then paused. His pillow held Demyx's scent. It wasn't faint, but strong, and if Zexion closed his eyes, he could almost pretend the swimmer was there.

As if. That was stupid, irrational, and served virtually no purpose. The teen wasn't so...so _infatuated_ that he'd stoop so low as to actually fantasize.

_Making me do these nonsensical things...making me doubt all I know of myself...maybe I do hate you, Demyx Watera_.

"Because this is not me," groaned Zexion, and he then tossed the pillow to the other side of the room.

He'd wash it later.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **A lot of you hate me for the ending, huh? -gets stabbed to death-

See that blush scene with the head-in-lap? That was totally for you, **shadowdolls** ;D It wasn't much, but I hope you liked it, fufufufu

Man, I'm 25 minutes late =_= 25 minutes ago was 6/9, aka Zemyx day. I'M LATE! NOOOO! -falls down in despair- I wanted to be on time, but I kept adding more stuff... Like the Female!AkuRoku scene... Why did I add that? I haven't even updated that fic in two years...

ANYWAY! So I have updated! -bows- So...is it getting flawed? IT IS, ISN'T IT! ;_; It's hard to write about Zexion being all lovesick... I've been using Hiroki from the yaoi series _Junjou Romantica_ as reference ;D Hence the title of the chapter xD Zexy seems a little like Hiro, right? Right? ...Is it just me...? ;_;

So yosh! A review? I deserve it, yes/no? Tell meh what you think! :DDD


	10. Fact: Everyone Carries Pain

**A/N: **Ah, the updates keep on coming, huh? 8D I feel accomplished that I've been updating alot, but sometimes I feel bad I don't update often enough. I wish my damn plot bunnies would populate when I actually WANT them to -puts plot bunnies in a cage to FORCE them to breed-

This chapter isn't long, so my apologies for that. I guess it's a bit of a filler chapter - something to put in between before the conflict. Yeah, more conflict. I'm surprised Zexy's head hasn't exploded literally.

Oh my moogle, _Hybrid Theory_ just entered double-digits! (It only took two years...)

Enjoy -bows-

_**Fact: Everyone Carries Pain**_

Zexion opened his drawer and removed one of the many binders he had. Inside was a CD case that he admitted he never opened, mostly because he didn't think he would have much interest in the disc's contents. With a sigh, he opened the casing and removed the CD, placing it inside the player his laptop had.

Familiar electric beats poured out of the laptop and Zexion opened up his AP Government essay that he was already done with, but he figured a bit of proofreading never killed anybody.

"_Everybody has a face that they hold inside_

_A face that awakes when I close my eyes_

_A face that watches every time they lie_

_A face that laughs every time they fall..."_

Listening to the music brought back the memories of a month ago when Demyx had given him a ride home. It brought back those hands tapping against the worn steering wheel, and brought back the sound of his voice. It had been so soft, almost swallowed by the music, yet when Zexion listened to the exact same song now, it somehow sounded a little bit empty, like something was missing...

_It'd be in his best favor for him to have completed his English essay by now_, the slate-haired teen thought absently as he read through his own paper. _Honestly, giving me an invitation to attend a social party. He needs to realize that academics come second to none priority-wise_. In truth, Zexion was still dumb to the fact that he was going to the Halloween party Demyx invited him to – well, the one his uncle was forcing him to attend.

The day after the catastrophic agreement, Zexion came close more than once to denying his so-called acceptance to the social flocking. But every time Demyx brought it up in excitement or even just smiled, the slate-haired teen's words swallowed back down his throat and into his stomach – the same place it felt like his heart plummeted when he realized that he was a horribly irresponsible person for still having irrational, painful affections for the hyper, handsome blonde.

Zexion took a deep breath and stared at his essay without actually _looking_ at it. The band Linkin Park continued to play from his speakers, unaware of his inner conflict. But at the same time, it was like each note and word came straight from the chaos of his mind.

"_I find the answers aren't so clear_

_Wish I could find a way to disappear_

_All these thoughts they make no sense_

_I find bliss in ignorance_

_Nothing seems to go away_

_Over_

_and_

_over_

_again..."_

The window open to his essay closed and Zexion instead curled himself up on his bed, staring at nothing in particular. He felt like he should be doing something – his scholarship essay (he was almost done with that) or reading (he started with the King novels) or homework (that's been done) or writing (he needed new notebooks – seriously). _Not_ doing anything wasn't something that Zexion Anderson did. Ever. Just laying on his bed, letting his emotions catch up with him while listening to music was a first. Strangely enough, at the moment, Zexion didn't really care. Stranger still was that he was sure his thoughts would be on overload as soon as he let his close monitoring let up a little – but instead, his was met with numbness, like cotton balls had taken up the space in his skull and ears and everything was just the slightest bit muffled.

_I suppose this is what they refer to as angsting_, he concluded with a small chuckle. It seemed like hours had passed with him becoming more and more thoughtless. It was a bit...welcome. It was getting darker in his room, but he didn't care. He was sure his leg was starting to fall asleep because of the angle in which he was laying. The CD repeated once it had ended, but Zexion didn't stir. Songs played again, and this time Zexion murmured whole parts of them, not even realizing how much of the music he had already memorized, even though he only listened to them twice.

"_Paper bags and angry voices_

_Under a sky of dust_

_Another wave of tension_

_Has more than filled me up_

_All my talk of taking action_

_These words were never true..."_

Zexion paused. It was only when the words left his lips did he realize what he said. He got up and rewinded the song. "_All my talk of taking action, these words were never true_..." The teen frowned and flopped back down on his bed and let the song continue. He didn't need it sung to him that he was being so cowardly. He knew that he was slipping. Funny thing was, even though a few days ago he had been so obsessed with quashing everything, it left him drained. Numb. And a bit lazy.

He hugged his pillow to himself, taking a deep breath. It was still there, very faintly – Demyx's scent. He had never washed his pillow like he had sworn to. Small hints of pink blotched his cheeks as he continued to breathe in the citrus smell.

God, he was losing it. Angsting in his room while reveling in the fragrance of the one – he couldn't deny it anymore, only an idiot would continue to do so – he had feelings for. He didn't know whether to be angered at his pitiful state or peeved that he just didn't care what he looked like at the moment. Just an hour or two to not process anything – school, Demyx, getting money for college, his job – **nothing**! Was that so much to ask for?

"_What do I do to ignore them behind me?_

_Do I follow my instincts blindly? _

_Do I hide my pride from there bad dreams_

_And give in to sad thoughts that are maddening-?"_

"Fuujin Anderson, get down here!"

Zexion nearly jumped at the sound of his father's voice, followed by the harsh slam of the front door, echoing in the empty house – always empty house... His sister wouldn't be able to NOT hear him. Still, the teen knew this routine well. Obviously, Fuu had gotten into another fight – a serious one. Fuu wouldn't ignore him, surprisingly; she would always answer to his call, as she was doing now. Over the moderate volume of the music, Zexion heard his sibling's door creak open then slam closed.

"What?" he heard her call over the banister.

"Get down here, young lady," Zexion's father said with uncharacteristic firmness. It was like this often enough. The Anderson children could only get noticed by flaunting – Zexion with his smarts, and Fuu with her attitude.

"Staying," came the placid reply.

"Fine! Stay up there then!" His voice was getting louder and his footsteps slammed up the stairs. They somewhere halfway, and Zexion gently lowered down the music to listen. "But you tell me what you're going to do about the two boys from your school you sent to the hospital today!"

Zexion widened his eyes. That was a first. Seifer and his gang of Fuu and Rai had a reputation of getting their fists dirty while into random brawls with other students, other gangs. If Fuu had ever sent a person from another gang into the ER, he certainly never knew about it. He supposed damn hooligans like that didn't care about stuff like that. They'd just take care of themselves.

Given that, no wonder Fuu was such a good gang member.

But back to what his father had said... His younger sibling had never hurt anyone in school so much that they had to be sent to the hospital.

_There's no way she could have gotten away with this_...

"Already discussed," Fuu said, and her voice still contained that air of someone who could care less.

"I know that you already talked about it with your principal! He called me and has set up a meeting for us and the other kids' families tomorrow morning! Do you have the _slightest_ idea of what could happen to you?"

There was a pause. Fuu might have been considering. "Not really," she finally replied.

"Well, it's going to be damn more than a week of detention!" shouted Mr. Anderson. There was a resonating boom as he stomped down on the step he was on. "Jesus, Fuujin, you could get hauled to juvenile court before we can get a word in! Not that you'll even speak in defense of yourself; too damn proud in the fact you nearly killed students! Killed them! They are at a hospital in critical condition! What the...what the **fuck** is wrong with you!"

Zexion froze at the curse that left his father's lips. He had said little to them throughout their years, everything very insignificant and wouldn't be remembered. This was the first time, Zexion knew, that their father raised a tone like that; that Mr. Anderson seemed to notice his daughter...and was incredibly disgusted by what he saw. Zexion didn't dare to breathe, but instead moved his finger over to the volume of the laptop and turned it up louder.

It didn't help. When their father spoke again, it was a shaky bellow, "What the hell made you think this was okay AT ALL? Fuujin, what is _wrong_ with you? Can't you see the trouble this is going to cause; the problems that are going to befall us because of this?" There was a disgusted snort and a small slap – Zexion guessed palm-against-banister. "Fuujin, is this all you think you can _do_?"

Fuu didn't answer, didn't reply in her usual sarcastic way. It was obvious the statement had bothered her greatly.

Zexion breathed harder, and his heart was beating faster. He didn't know why his body was reacting this way – this whole situation had nothing to do with him. He closed his eyes, trying to focus entirely on the music playing...

The phone rang, and that ended the tense silence. Mr. Anderson said nothing in dismissal, but the phone stopped ringing, so he must have answered it. A few seconds later, Fuu's door slammed shut. Zexion let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

_Father yelled at Fuu... She'll be suspended for sure... It's quite plausible that she will...be taken._

Ever since their mother left, tensions had been high between the two siblings. The words exchanged were few without the help of Fuu's faltering speech. But there had always been some sort of understanding. An understanding that they were alone.

_She...almost killed two people_...

_What will Mother say? Will Father even tell her_?

Zexion got up and went to his bookcase, picking out a volume of the judicial system. She was going to court anyway, right? It reminded him that he might as well brush up on the facts surrounding it. Besides, it's not like anything in the books could help her. Fuujin was a hardcore delinquent. She had nothing to show that she was a person who could be accepted by society. And now, she and her gang had sent actual students to the hospital.

The fact of life was to blend in and follow the route laid out for everyone. Go through school and don't get distracted by anything – it was the only way to keep your grades up and get into a high-class college. Study a profession that will keep you in great success. Get a job, white-collar mostly, and provide for a family.

It was a fact. And Fuu had tried to avoid it.

_And now she's paying for it,_ thought Zexion. He went back to his bed and placed his book on his bed. He reached to turn off his laptop, but then just let his hand fall limp at his side.

* * *

Most mornings before first period, Zexion enjoyed the silence of the library. Shelves were tall and stacked, a surpassing labyrinth of a library for a high school. It was within the enclosed spaces that Zexion found solitude and peace. It was true that nowadays he spent his mornings with Demyx when the swimmer ate breakfast with Roxanne and her friends. The slate-haired teen found them tolerable classmates to be around. At least, a lot more so than Demyx's friends. Zexion hadn't met any of them yet, but he didn't necessarily want to, either.

That morning had been a day when Demyx went off with his swim team buddies, and Zexion did _not_ want to get caught up in it, so he left towards refuge as soon as he saw where the blonde was sitting.

A girl behind the check-out counter smiled at him when he came in. "Hey, Zexion," she greeted. Her eyes looked up at him from behind her glasses. "It's been awhile since you've stopped by. The books and I were getting lonely."

"Don't banter, Quistis, you know I'm not fond of teasing."

"Ah, yes, you're celibate to smiling," Quistis said, hitting herself on the head. "I forgot. My bad!"

Even as she continued to joke, Zexion couldn't help but cracking the smallest of smiles. "See that you remember it well next time."

Quistis began to swirl around in her chair. "Oh, and if you get curious, Ms. Schultz told me that we've got new books under the science category. Maybe you'll find something you like?"

"Ah, yes, thank you, Quistis." Zexion turned away from the counter and began weaving through the towering shelves of the library. Nonfiction science was in the center of the library, where the fictions and nonfiction wings met. The center was also where tables and chairs were laid out – a place for students to study. Except, as expected, the teenagers there weren't studying at all, but engaging in conversation too loud for Zexion to take in the morning.

_Not today. I just need quiet. I need no one to be around me_. Yesterday, even after night had fallen, the argument between Fuu and her father continued. Zexion couldn't drown it out, but at the same time, couldn't bring himself to tell them to shut up. The slate-haired teen turned tail and trailed through the shelves again. The area furthermost from the entrance and any windows was the poetry section. Zexion walked through it until coming to a corner sandwiched between the wall and a bookcase. Zexion plopped down on the floor with a sigh, putting his binder to the side.

_I can't believe I'm thinking this_, he thought wearily, _but I'm anxious for this school year to end_. He leaned his head against the wall with a small thump, his eyes traversing aimlessly over the books filling the shelves.

_Winters...Shakespeare...Poe...Dickinson...Baudelaire_... The teen started at that last author's name.

"_Got it! He's a writer form back in the day; he writes poetry! One of his collections was called 'The Flowers of Evil,' right?"_

"_Demyx...that's Charles _Baudelaire_."_

Zexion reach out to the shelf and grabbed a copy of _Les Fleurs Du Mal_. Sitting back down, he brought his knees close to his chest as he opened the book and read silently. It was only after a few poems that Zexion chuckled to himself. He looked up at the books next to him. "I seem like the poetry-appreciator, do I?" he said softly, remembering what Demyx said to him over the phone. He stood up and picked up another book by Baudelaire and then another by Emily Dickinson. He'd check out some other selections another time.

Gathering his binder and three books, he began his journey back to the –

"Oh my!"

"Roxanne Keyli?"

Wide azure eyes framed in glasses stared in surprise at the slate-haired teen before them. "Oh, Zexion! I-I'm so, so sorry, I really didn't mean to bump into you!"

Zexion adjusted his stack of books that had become askew in the collision. He gave Roxanne a pointed look. "First it was your cousin," he sighed, "and now I find myself accidentally meeting you at every turn. Please inform me if more of your family decides to become my stalker. I should like to know beforehand."

A light shade of pink tinted Roxanne's cheeks at Zexion's words. "Wh-what? N-n-no, I'm not a stalker, I-I swear! I was just going to the cooking section to pick up a book for Olette! Honest! U-um, do you maybe want to come with me?"

"There's still time before first period starts, so I don't see why not..." They wordlessly walked down the aisles until Roxanne found her book and they made their way to the check-out counter. Zexion looked over at the girl next to him and frowned.

"You're wearing the THS uniform assigned to males again, I see," he noted, glancing at the black pants that should have been a skirt, and the tie that should have been a bow. "It's labeled as a uniform for a reason, you know."

"I-I...I know," replied Roxanne, hugging the book to her. "I, um, really am trying to stop it. I've done it all through high school, but I know I need to start dressing more like a girl. Hayner and...Axle tell me I should."

At the mention of Axle, Zexion recalled what he had seen between the two of them at the store. He tried not to remember too much of it, and talked to keep the memory away. "Well, for now, I won't report your violation of school conduct," said Zexion as he settled his books on the check-out counter.

"Are you talking about little Roxanne here? She's harmless," Quistis suddenly piped up, leaning over the counter. "Boy or girl, she's cute either way. She has boyish features, but one look into those big blue eyes and you know!"

Roxanne backed away, holding her book tighter to her. "Wh-what? I-I don't think I've ever m-met you before," she said shakily, cowering behind Zexion.

"Oh please, don't be alarmed, I wouldn't harm a fly," Quistis reassured as she took Zexion's books and processed them.

"She's just a fanatic about what she decrees as cute," the slate-haired teen explained. "I blame all the Japanese comics she insists upon reading."

Roxanne relaxed and set her book on the counter as well. Zexion looked at her. "So, what do you need the book for?"

"For cooking, _obviously_, Zexion. Jesus, I never knew you of all people were thick," Quistis said with an exaggerated sigh.

"It's nothing, really. Some of my friends and I are having a sleepover and Olette wants to try out a bunch of new recipes. She likes cooking and baking," said Roxanne with a small smile. "She said it's for Hayner asking me out, and now she's making a huge deal out of it."

"No way, Roxanne, you've got a boyfriend now? For how long?" exclaimed Quistis.

"Um, j-just a week. It's really not a big deal," she said hurriedly, looking away. Tucking some hair behind her ear, she said, "But I heard you're up to something this weekend too, Zexion. You're going to that Halloween party, right?"

"How do you-?" Zexion stopped and then shook his head. "What am I asking? Demyx told you, didn't he?"

"He's really happy about it. He kept saying things about how you don't get out a lot," Roxanne agreed with a bigger smile. She thanked Quistis after the assistant gave her her book. "Are you going to dress up?"

"Demyx told me it's not a prerequisite to come in costume." Zexion shrugged. "So I see no reason why I should. I barely see enough reason to go in the first pla-"

"Zexion, are you serious!" cried Quistis, her eyes wide in appall. She was leaning over the counter again, towards the two of them. "It's practically your first party, isn't it? You _have_ to go dressed up!"

The slate-haired teen fervently shook his head. "I am most definitely not wearing one," he said firmly, warding off any possible objections that either of the two girls would say to him.

"Demyx said he was going in costume. He already bought it and everything," Roxanne said lightly, pushing her glasses up. "Axle's doing his make-up."

"Make-up? No, I'm not putting any cosmetics on. Unless you've forgotten I'm a _boy_," he snapped, suddenly recalling when Demyx had called him cute like a girl. He was boy, a male, dammit! Why did the world insist upon the opposite? "I know it's customary to dress all willy-nilly while observing this holiday, I have no intention in being apart of that affair."

Quistis raised a brow, her eyes looking him up and down intently. "Well, if that's the case, how about I make your costume?" Her gaze suddenly lit up and she clapped her hands together. "That's it! I can make it for you! I've made many cosplaying outfits before, so I am quite good with the needle-!"

"What, are you insane, woman?" Zexion said, backing away. "Did you not just hear my last statements at all?"

"Oh, it's a good thing I carry my measuring tape wherever I go!" Quistis reached into her bag and pulled out a roll of orange tape. A chill ran down Zexion's spine at the sight of it, because _oh shit_ he knew she was serious. A scene like this had played out once before when Quistis and the teen first met. Her fetish with "cute" things came along with a huge desire to dress them up.

"When I'm done with this, you'll be the most adorable boy in THS!" declared Quistis. And after that, Zexion knew it'd be pointless to struggle, because then only great pain would come to him.

If it was one thing the teen had learned under his employment with Selphie, it was this: A woman bent on a mission wasn't a wise thing to intercept.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **Sorry about randomly adding Quistis, but I needed an otaku this chapter to be able to make the costume for next chapter. It might be over-the-top for Zexion, but when I was reading the series_ Kuroshitsuji,_ I just couldn't resist x) My mind...she is becoming polluted with _Kuroshitsuji_... I just finished the Noah's Ark arc and I'm just traumatized on so many levels... -weeps-

Well, next chapter is the Halloween party, and Demyx is going to do the unforgivable! -gasp- What will Zexion do? Are the feelings he's finally letting in just going to be shut out once more? Only my plot bunnies know! ...Because they don't tell me shit.

Reviewers don't get nom-nomed on by my bunnies 8B


	11. Opinion: Truth Can Turn Smiles to Frowns

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay ^^; Minus the usual schoolwork, I've also been doing a number of projects lately that've required a lot of writing and a lot of imagination xD;; It's been really exciting and fun. I'm still in the process of doing many things. I think for the first time in my life I'm really struggling to juggle all the different parts of my life, but I'm not stressed about it. I think this is a good thing x3 I'm still the lazy fangirl that you all know, but I still think I changed a bit, mind-set wise. Zexion is in the process of undergoing a change as well. Let's see if I can channel some of that energy into this fic, hmm?

The Halloween party was going to be in this chapter but as I kept typing, I realized the length was getting pretty...well, lengthy. For this fic, at least. Once I hit 9,000 words, I decided I'd break up the chapter. So I am writing the party scene right now, but it's just not in this chapter :P

I really hope you enjoy.

**Opinion: Truth Will Turn Smiles to Frowns**

Sleepy – he was getting so sleepy. He didn't know why his body felt so heavy or why his muscles ached as if they had just had the work-out of his life.

Usually so attentive in class, Zexion's head kept swaying to the side as his eyes grew heavy, lids falling closed… Shit, wait! He had to pay attention! Okay, this was fine, everything was fine, just yawn a little and get some more oxygen into the brain…

What was Mr. Lee saying now? Ah yes, if you…just take the…

_Thud_.

"M-Mr. Lee! Zexion just hit his head on the desk!"

"…Dude, I think he's out cold."

"Zexion passed out? Who would have thought it..."

"Must be stress, it finally got to him. Zexion!"

"Zexion!"

* * *

Peeking above his copy of _Crime and Punishment_ at lunch, the slate-haired teen glared at the girl sitting in front of him. "This is your entire fault, you realize," he declared dryly, pressing his book against his nose.

Pushing up her glasses, Quistis gave him a cordial smile. "Now why are you going to start lunch with accusations? This isn't the proper way to talk to a lady."

_What sits before me is no lady_, Zexion begged to differ. He didn't even know what prompted Quistis to skip on her staff aid period and sit with him in the cafeteria. Lexaeus was off somewhere and probably wasn't coming at all, since he was the first at the table usually. All Zexion really hoped for was that Demyx was off hanging out with his friends and wouldn't be joining them. Quistis was enough of a headache.

Well, suffice to say _everyone_ was a headache to Zexion.

"Anyway, I needed some late-minute measurements to get the finishing touches on your costume done," Quistis explained with a mischievous grin.

Oh dear, not this again. "I thought you got enough of doing the seamstress thing when you barged into my house last night," replied the slate-haired teen bitterly. "I don't suppose you remember that, do you? Not only that, but you stayed for _five_ hours. I stayed up late doing my homework because of you."

Quistis put her hands over her ears and shook her head, "Blah-blah-blah, I don't want to hear it from you." She gave him a meaningful look. "You'll like the costume once you put it on."

Zexion looked at her doubtfully and flipped a page. "I chanced upon seeing lace in your bag of fabric. What are you planning to do with that?" he demanded with a narrowed gaze. "If that's going on the clothing, my refusal to ever wear the damn thing increases significantly."

"Eh? Lace - on Zexion? Someone please tell me why I wasn't invited into this conversation."

With a sigh, Zexion pushed his book into his backpack – chances were, he wasn't going to get very far in it. "Demyx, have I ever told you that you arrive in the most unfortunate of moments?" he groaned.

"And I keep telling you, it's a gift!" jeered the swimmer as he took a seat beside Zexion. He tossed a small bag at him. "Here, a cookie for your misery. May it bring you great cheer."

Zexion frowned as he looked into the bag. "…It's shaped like a pumpkin."

"To you from me, Pumpkin Head," Demyx said with a laugh, biting into his own bat-shaped cookie. "Amazing how festive the school cafeteria ladies can get sometimes. I got this one for Lexy, but I just saw him and he told me he'd be somewhere else. Want his, Quis?"

Zexion rolled his eyes as Quistis exclaimed in glee at having gotten a free cookie. "Everyone, Demyx – how is it you know everyone?"

"It's called being sociable," Quistis retorted, shaking her cookie at him.

"Ah, don't be too hard on him. He'll know our ways soon enough," promised Demyx, giving Zexion a sure grin. "And I don't care how much you protest, or how much you criticize it all, you already said yes to going. So I'm not letting you out of my grasp for an instant. I'm going to make sure you have a good time."

Many a time had Zexion heard those words being said between couples, but he immediately ignored that thought and broke his cookie in half, biting into its crooked smile. "I never protested or the like, alright? If you took more notice, you'd see that I've rather accepted this – if anything, just to shut you up."

Demyx's face lit up and he tousled Zexion's hair roughly, making the teen scowl and slap his hands away. "Demyx Watera, get away from me," he growled.

"Aha, can I not be a happy person every once in awhile?"

Zexion raised a skeptical brow. "There's no such notion as 'once in awhile' for you. It's 'all the time,' more like it. You're chipper all the time. And loud, and mentally-lagging, and obnoxious..." Zexion counted off on his fingers each of the qualities Demyx enjoyed maxing out. At the blond's pout, he said, "That's not even half the list. There's too many extremes for you."

But instead of being perturbed, Demyx just chuckled and put an arm around the teen's shoulders. "Zexy, you don't even _know_ all the things I can do to the extreme."

It could've been any number of things that Demyx was talking about, but it was _because_ it was Demyx that Zexion knew _exactly_ what he was referring to. He shrugged the blond's arm away and got up to sit next to Quistis, giving him some space between him and Demyx.

"This length between us," Zexion explained slowly, "is to be maintained at _all times_."

A moment of silence passed in which Zexion began to foolishly believe that he had _actually_ shut Demyx up...

"Specify 'length,'" the swimmer requested with a sly glint in his eye.

Zexion practically threw his book at him, blushing red.

* * *

Saturday came without delay, much to Zexion's chagrin. It prompted him awake with the sun shining brightly through the blinds of his window and birds singing outside. Their cordial whistling reminded him of a certain blond that could sing just as if not more beautifully. Pillows over his head didn't make the day disappear, and neither did clawing his face like a cat for awhile, and neither did literally rolling off his bed in an attempt to gain a concussion.

Yes, Halloween was indeed here, for he was getting plenty of tricks.

He had to work on Saturdays, but the thought of going to work to deal with Selphie and then going to a stupid party to deal with Demyx and his gang of fellow jocks wasn't his notion of an ideal day. It took years of his trained willpower to rise up from the floor and head to the bathroom.

All he managed to get from falling out of bed was a stinging bump.

Quistis was supposed to – once again, uninvited – come over to his house to help him into his finished costume. Her eyes had all but been glowing when she proclaimed that she had completed the costume.

"I don't want to get ahead of myself, especially since you haven't put it on yet," she had said with contained excitement and a bright smile, "but I just have to say, I think it's my best work~!"

That day, Lexaeus wasn't coming over to pick him up and take him to work. Zexion hadn't particularly minded, but what made him pause for a moment was when the auburn-haired boy had said something about having made another promise already. Zexion had hung up the phone, thinking about how he'd seen less an less of Lexaeus lately. What was up with that?

He had stared at the phone after the call, looking at it but not really seeing it. Roxanne's words had come to him, about how he normally wouldn't have noticed such changes before.

Everything seemed to be changing. And the thing was, Zexion was starting to think that...he didn't really care – no, he didn't really _mind_ anymore.

The autumn air hit him as he walked outside after a quick breakfast of toast and eggs, not even saying a word of farewell to his slumbering family. Saturday mornings were always lazy in the Anderson house, making Zexion's activity pass quickly and unnoticed. The bus stop involved no crossing of streets but as he got off the bus when he reached his destination, he had to go through a busy intersection.

_Traffic in the morning_, thought Zexion bitterly. _That's what I love about this day_.

Selphie had given him his regular duties, and the work day passed smoothly, if not a bit quickly. Customers came in buying last-minute candy and costumes and party favors. As Zexion was on his way to get a restock of Batman utility belts, he passed Quistis at her post in the pharmacy.

She winked at him and waved him over. "I heard that you did rather well when you took over my pharmacy while I was gone."

Zexion shrugged. "I didn't think it difficult, though I have to complain that I didn't appreciate Vexen's constant hovering."

"Oh, he's a big softie once you get to know him," insisted Quistis with a smile.

"In any case, you came back to work earlier than expected."

Now Quistis shrugged. "I wasn't that attached to the relative that died. I only saw them during reunions and the holidays, anyway," she said, leaning against the counter. She smirked then. "Nice pumpkin."

Earlier when he finished getting changed into his uniform, Selphie had skipped over and pinned a lit-up pumpkin right above his name tag. She pressed a button that was the pumpkin's nose and it began cackling like a witch. Before he even had the chance to protest, she told Zexion that if she saw him and the pumpkin wasn't lit up, she'd have him head the Safe-Sex Tent in February for Valentine's Day.

Sometimes it really scared Zexion how simply he could be blackmailed by her with her fake-innocent smile. He told Quistis as much in reply to her so-called compliment.

"Do you ever think you exist just so other people can tease you?" she inquired with a laugh.

"Too often for it to be considered untrue anymore," he admitted with a sigh. He looked at her with weary eyes. "So the party is tonight, then?"

"Of course, I wouldn't forget a thing like that," she reassured. "I'll be at your house around six, alright?"

Zexion looked visibly more tired, but he waved in noncommittal agreement. "Yes, yes. I suppose I should at least be grateful you've given me forewarning this time." He glanced at her with a thoughtful and somewhat worried expression. He went closer to the counter and whispered, "By a relatively _normal_ person's standards, how ridiculous is the costume?"

"Zexion," groaned Quistis. "You're doing it again."

"Well, I can always bring a change of clothes with me..."

Quistis reached over to grip his shoulders. "Zexion, as much as it doesn't interest you, I'm sure you're not so blind as to not notice that the purpose of Halloween _is_ to dress up," she said, giving him a meaningful look beneath her glasses. As she let go of him, she offered, "Think of it this way, you can become whoever or whatever you've always wanted to be on Halloween. The costume and make-up is to keep people guessing. Isn't that exciting?"

"I can't say I've put myself in a costume enough to know the feeling."

"All the more reason you should do this. And you should know better than to doubt my skills," she chastised with a wagging finger. "You're dealing with a professional here."

Considering Zexion never had to deal with a master seamstress before, he couldn't say whether or not he really should believe Quistis' words. Actually, he didn't even have time to think about it before Selphie was griping to him on his headset, so he excused himself and set back to work.

After enduring a few hours of Selphie nagging on him, customers nagging at him, and Quistis popping up at random times, an exhausted Zexion headed for the locker rooms to change and clock out. It was a little past noon now, which meant there were still seven hours until the party started. He had never been invited to such an event before...

Would everything really be alright? Even if he (presumably) looked the part, this wasn't accounting for the fact that he was a rather inactive boy who mostly holed himself up in his room to read and study. He was sure Fuu used to tease him by saying his social skills were smaller than could be measured in a teaspoon. He had years of social interaction to catch up with.

_Am I really that much of a sociopath?_

He pulled his shirt down and closed his locker door. Lexaeus was still out doing whatever it was he had been doing, leaving the teen to take the bus home. He wasn't looking forward to it, and he planned to later ask what it was that the auburn-haired boy had been up to. Should he ask Demyx? The two sure seemed...rather well-acquainted...

When the hell did that happen anyway?

Roxanne was sitting on the blue-painted bench outside when Zexion went outside, wearing form-fitting jeans and a long-sleeved light-blue shirt that matched her glasses. It wasn't until her eyes snapped up to meet his that he realized he'd been _gawking_. Almost immediately he saw her cheeks turn pink.

"Oh...h-hey," she greeted quickly, looking down at the gum-infested cement.

He walked up and took a seat next to her. "Are you waiting for Demyx?" he asked. Oh man, just saying his name made Zexion's tongue feel like it bloated. He cleared his throat. "That is, is he your mode of transportation home?"

She nodded, her blond hair seeming to shine brighter in the October sun. "Yeah, I just called him." Her wide azure eyes gave him a glance. "Are, um...you going to stay here with me?"

"I was considering going to the dollar store down the street," he admitted, shoving his pockets into his black jacket. "I was going to purchase some of those sweet confections called gummi worms that your cousin introduced me to during one tutoring session. I'm rather fond of them." With an interested lilt, he asked, "Have you tried some?"

Roxanne regarded him tentatively, like she didn't understand the question. "Sometimes. I don't like gummies all that much. They're too chewy. And stretchy." She quickly looked away like she was scared of his disapproval.

"Honestly? That's what I find so appealing about them," he said in what could be considered a light tone. He didn't find anything wrong with it until he realized that Roxanne was looking at him in surprise.

He took another long glance at her clothing to get off the random candy subject. "Can I note something out loud?" he asked, raising a brow.

She shifted somewhat uncomfortably but shrugged. "S-sure?" she said, pushing up her glasses.

"Well, first of all, if you're going to answer in the affirmative, don't sound so dubious about it," he said patiently. Although he had to give her some credit; it had been awhile since he heard her stutter. But that wasn't the only difference... "I haven't seen you in casual attire often enough so I'm going to ask this. Do you wear such apparel often?"

"What kind?"

Finger and thumb came together to pinch her shirt. "I don't know how one would normally call it," he admitted as he thought. Appealing? Nicely-dressed? More girly? That one sounded closer to the word... He heard girls say it enough times to each other, now what was it...?

"That is to say, you look very _cute_."

Roxanne's face all but turned a very bright red and she quickly looked away. "Z-Z-Zexion, do you have a-any idea what you just-?" She couldn't even finish her sentence as her face got redder. She fanned herself with her hand, wriggling out of his grasp. The sputtering and clumsy Roxanne he was accustomed to had obviously returned at the sound of one word.

"Hey, guys!" came a cordial exclaim in front of them.

Now it was Zexion's turn to feel his face grow warm despite the chilling breeze. His heart seemed to shoot right up his throat. Was it romantic to feel like throwing up all your bloody organs at the voice of someone you liked? Zexion had no clue whatsoever.

Roxanne practically jumped out of her seat. "Demyx!"

The blond was walking up to the two of them, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans and a smaller smile than Zexion was used to seeing on his face. That along with those oceanic eyes slightly narrowed in what could be considered a glare gave Zexion the impression that he was faking this innocence. Like Selphie could. But Zexion didn't want to think of her when he was looking at Demyx... That was just really weird.

Almost as weird as the abrupt realization that Demyx was hugging him tightly and that his head was nestled right next to the blond's warm neck.

"Oh Zexy, it feel like it's been so long since I've seen you!" he declared melodramatically. "I'm so happy we met like this! I don't think I could've gone another second without yoooooooou!"

Zexion didn't even bother to wiggle against the swimmer's embrace. What was the point if he'd just do it again in the near future?

Roxanne was the one to touch her cousin's shoulder to rouse him back to the real world. "Uh, um... Demyx, I don't think Z-Zexion can breathe properly like that," she pointed out.

"Eh? Oh!" Demyx pulled away, the smile on his face more genuine than it had been before. He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing. "Sorry about that, Zexy. You should've said something if you were dying!"

"I'm dying," the teen murmured sarcastically, rubbing his arms. Stupid athletes with their iron grip... "If your going to _insist_ on displaying such affection, do you mind toning down the intensity of it? At this rate, I'll bruise. I'm surprised I _haven't_ already."

"Just tell me if you do, I promise to kiss each one," proclaimed Demyx with a wink.

_Then I wish I had one on my lips_. Did he _seriously_ just think that? Dear knowledge, this...liking people business was a more threatening ailment than he originally thought...

Luckily, Demyx didn't seem to notice. "Jesus, cousin, your face looks like Christmas wrapping paper. I don't think that's healthy."

Zexion looked back over at Roxanne, who's face was still indeed a bright red. "Honestly, were you offended by my notice that you are cute?" he asked with a frown. "And after I went through all that trouble of coming up with the correct term, too." He looked at Demyx for help. "Don't you think she looks cute?"

Demyx opened his mouth but then quickly closed it. "He's right, you look great," he complimented with a grin. "Where's all your usual baggy and boyish clothes? Don't tell me a certain _someone_ spurred this on."

"Th-that's...!" Roxanne shook her head in a protesting gesture. Finally, she calmed down, gripping the hem of her shirt as she looked down. "Be honest," she said with a sort of conviction, "do I r-really look okay?"

Her question made Demyx chuckle suggestively. "Oho~ Who are we trying to impress, eh?" he teased, poking her cheek. "I think you look nice. It's a lot better than what you used to wear, I'll tell you that."

Roxanne made a noncommittal sound and began walking into the parking lot.

"Does she know where she's going?" Zexion asked with a raised brow as he watched her walk off.

Demyx waved his hand dismissively. "She's fine, she's fine," he reassured. "I park in the same general spot, you see. Want me to take you home, too?" His aqua eyes bore kindly on the slate-haired teen.

"I suppose so," he murmured, tugging down the sleeves of his jacket so that they went over his hands. He looked up at the swimmer. "Do you mind?"

He really shouldn't have said anything in the first place. Demyx's face was already lit up happily. "Uh, no?" he said steadily, like Zexion was slow. "I'm the one that offered, right? C'mon, let's go!" Without waiting for Zexion to respond, he gripped his wrist and ran out into the parking lot. Zexion could barely keep up with Demyx's pace.

"D-Demyx! Your legs are longer than mine!" he reminded in a panic, feeling like he was going to stumble for the fourth time. All he got in return was a laugh that he didn't know how to respond to.

By the time they got to the car, Roxanne was already waiting against it, her face less red now. Of course when Demyx let them all inside, it was as messy as ever, but there was that familiar smell again and Zexion found no reason to complain. He sat in the back as Roxanne joined her cousin in the front.

The car ride was relaxed, with Demyx chatting endlessly and making Roxanne laugh softly. Sometimes he'd stop mid-sentence just to belt out the chorus of the song playing on a CD he had on. It wasn't Linkin Park, the only band in the world Zexion was familiar with, but he didn't find any of them unpleasant.

"I'll give you a mix CD for your birthday," the swimmer promised Zexion with a grin. "I'm frickin' great at them, if I do say so myself. I make cover arts and everything."

"He gave me one every birthday since I was twelve," Roxanne added. She then chuckled humorously. "That is, until his mother called him cheap last year."

"Now is it really _my_ fault my mom can't appreciate the work behind a mix CD?"

The slate-haired teen tried to get the conversation back on track. "And you know my date of birth _how_?" Zexion said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"Sources, Zexy," Demyx reminded as he turned down an intersection. "I keep telling you I have them. November 6th, right?"

Zexion jumped as they passed a pothole. "You inform me," he returned sardonically.

Roxanne's stop came soon after at her friend Olette's house. She already explained earlier that she and her other friends were going to spend Halloween there to watch endless horror movies. Zexion had to admit, that sounded a lot better than a party. At least then, maybe – just maybe – he'd have more time to be closer to Demyx.

As the car drove away from Olette's house, Zexion found himself hugging his knees and looking down at his sneakers. The lines were really starting to blur in his mind. The more everything blurred and the more lines seemed to be crossed, the less Zexion seemed to know about himself. He thought he had it all down to pat. It shouldn't be so difficult to figure someone out, especially yourself, right?

About a minute into the ride Demyx began humming something, rocking his head in rhythm to it. The CD had ended and he handed the CD holder to Zexion. "Choose something to listen to." After that he went back to humming.

"Well, what's the name of the tune you're singing?" the teen asked as he flipped through the discs. Each one was decorated in markers and stickers. A bit more imaginative than the usual graffiti he saw but still far form the art he was familiar with. "I'll get the disc with that one."

"Oh, it's not something anyone has heard. I made it up," Demyx said with a proud smile. "Well, someone else made up the words, but I did the music. I'm thinking about playing it at the party. Would you be down with that?"

Zexion decided to settle on one CD marked with purple and black ink. "It's not my business what you do," he said, handing the disc to Demyx. When he put it in, a heavy guitar riff sliced through the air. Demyx nodded approvingly.

"Oh, my metal mix. This was from one of my more rebellious phases in middle school," he laughed as drums pounded the car. "Been awhile since I listened to it."

"_Your cruel device_

_Your blood like ice_

_One look could kill_

_My pain, your thrill_..."

The harsh drum pounding sort of put Zexion off, but the soothing guitar and verses calmed him down a little. The lyrics were ironic enough. He hated how Demyx's music seemed to read his mind. He debated whether or not he really wanted that mix from him or not.

"_I want to love you but I better not touch (don't touch!)_

_I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop_

_I want to kiss you but I want it too much (too much!)_

_I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison!_

_You're poison running through my veins _

_You're poison!_

_I don't want to break these chains..."_

"So...do you like Roxanne or something?"

At first, Zexion hadn't even heard the question, but as soon as it registered, he snapped his head up. "Excuse me?" he said incredulously. "I don't experience such foolish feelings as _infatuations_."

Well, save for the person in front of him...

Demyx turned down the music a little and glanced back at him through the mirror. "Really? Because I never heard _you_ say anyone was cute before. I didn't even think such a thing was possible."

Slightly irked, Zexion retorted, "Well, obviously you miscalculated."

"So," Demyx went on firmly, "by that logic, you must like her, right? I mean, I wouldn't blame you. Roxy is a great girl beneath all her shyness. She has one of the lead roles in the school play, did you know that?"

"I vaguely recall something of that nature," Zexion said tartly. He put his legs down, leaning closer to Demyx. "You must understand, Demyx, I don't view your cousin in such a manner. I'm an observer. I note things. I _observed_ she was wearing different clothing and so I _noted_ that she appeared cute. Nothing more."

He watched intently as Demyx considered. His fingers tapped against the steering wheel like he was trying to imitate the _Jeopardy_ theme. "Does that mean you don't like anybody?" he asked in a low voice.

The question surprised Zexion, so much so that he almost didn't know what to say. _How ironic that he has to be the one to ask me that_. "I don't see how it matters," he settled on replying.

"You're evading the question," accused the swimmer.

"To be fair, you never claimed I couldn't."

"I now claim that you can't evade the question. Now answer it."

The passing scenery outside suddenly seemed very interesting. "If you keep going straight right here, we'll get to my home faster."

"Zexyyyy," whined Demyx. "Don't be a dick."

"You keep calling me that!"

"Because you _are_ being one," instigated the swimmer, smirking at the fact that he was riling the slate-haired teen up.

Zexion sighed in exasperation and tossed himself back on the seat in defeat. "Fine! Fine! I concede defeat." Looking out the window, he said, "What was the question?"

"You," Demyx began, relaxing now that he'd won. "Are you incapable of liking someone? And do you like someone?"

"One question, Demyx Watera."

The car stopped at a red light. "Fine. Then do you think you'd ever like someone?" came the final inquiry.

After a long pause of fighting with himself mentally, Zexion replied, "I used to think that I couldn't." His voice was so soft that it was a whisper. But he knew that Demyx heard because he didn't move even as the light turned green. Only when honks began to sound behind them did the swimmer begin moving again.

Demyx didn't push the subject, but his face turned a soft pink color. They drove in silence the rest of the ride, and the music got turned up again. Within minutes the car parked and Zexion unbuckled his seat belt.

"Want me to walk you inside?"

"I'd prefer not. But my utmost gratitude for the ride," the teen said, nodding his head. He opened the door and got out.

Demyx called out to him, his smile back on his face. "You haven't forgotten about tonight, right?" he said.

"Quistis is coming by in a few hours," Zexion reassured. He chuckled tiredly. "She'd know if I was trying to escape before the thought even finished crossing my mind."

"That's my girl!" He winked at the teen. "See you later, then. I'll pick you up around six thirty or seven."

Zexion closed the door and quickly walked to his door, trying very hard not to look back. He knew Demyx hadn't left yet because he didn't hear him driving away. That made the feelings bubbling inside him burn hot. He had a hard time placing the feelings as pleasant or painful. What did it matter, though? He had just done something he promised never to do again.

Only when he was safely inside and had closed the door did Zexion let out the breath he had been holding outside. He didn't even have the strength to go to his room. He just slumped against the door, putting a hand over his face.

No matter how much he'd try to deny it, he just admitted _it_ – to the one person he shouldn't be anywhere near on top of that!

A long time ago, after his mother left and after the therapy, Zexion told himself he'd never put himself through it again. No more nonsense. No more irrationality. No more emotions.

_But Demyx knows now_, he thought, his body shaking. _He knows that I'm just like anyone else. I can... I can_...

It wasn't until he sniffed that he realized he was crying. There was a familiar salty taste slowly dripping onto his lips and tongue, making his hot cheeks sticky and wet. His trembling hand came up, fingers reaching out to touch his face, when he suddenly brought it down heavily on the floor, leaning his head against the door. He laughed and didn't know why.

It could've been that he was crying of happiness. Was such a thing still possible for him?

Or maybe they _were_ tears of anguish. Because when he admitted that he was willing to feel warm about someone again, maybe the "him" he had been for the past few years died a little. There was a peculiar thing about that notion though...

...and it was that Zexion didn't care.

* * *

**Ending A/N:** Things are approaching more and more of a turning point, it seems :3 I'm glad. The series is close to ending. Finally, right? But yes, the end is near. They'll be next chapter, a very short chapter after that, then one last one. I'm contemplating whether or not to put an epilogue still, but like I said, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Phew!

Oh, and I don't own the song lyrics to "_Poison_" - they, along with the song, are own by Alice Cooper.

My utmost apologies again for the long wait. I'm insanely happy that there are still some of you that have continued to read throughout the years. Yeah, years. And for you to deal with my procrastination for so long and still read and enjoy, it makes me want to explode with gratitude for you all -teary eyes- If I could successfully send each of you a tight hug, I totally would without hesitation.

Thank you for the support! QAQ


	12. Opinion: Fears Can Be Made Real

**A/N: **This chapter turned out long anyway... My apologies, but many things will happen. Things people might want to murder me for... -shivers and sets up shields-

My apologies if I never replied to your review. I've been doing alot of college-related things and am a little stressed out, and I keep forgetting to reply. I have read each one though and would like to thank every one of you -smiles wearily- I promise I'll reply this time.

Enjoy, please.

**Opinion: Fears Can Be Made Real**

Some time after Demyx left, Zexion was holed up in his room. For once, he wasn't doing homework, reading, or obsessively writing down his woes on paper. Well, he was fervently writing, though. The words suddenly smacked into him like a freight train when he was sitting on the floor crying. It took little prompting for him to shoot up and begin writing what he was thinking, what was making his heart swell and make it feel like a balloon.

Earlier that week, he found a few websites where he could download songs and within a hour he had acquired some more songs from Linkin Park and was busy listening to them as he wrote. He couldn't believe how easy it was to write _these_ kinds of things out – so much easier than when he ranted about what happened _back then_. But he wouldn't let that get to him ever again. How stupid could he be?

As he wrote, there was a small smile on his face, one that felt silly.

_Where is my mind_? This was something some part of him wondered, and, given all he'd been through, Zexion was willing to bet it was a more rational part of him. In other words, something he should listen to. _Somehow though, I can't find the energy to_.

When evening arrived, Zexion sat back on his chair and gave out a sigh. He had written more than he thought he would, and he didn't know what to do with it. He supposed for now he'd just stick in his drawer with the rest of his writings. He took the sheets of paper and noticed that his notebook wasn't in his drawer. An almost panicked feeling seized his chest before he realized that it was on top of his desk. That's right, he had forgotten to put it back after Demyx had come by that time...

"_Why are you so upset? Is it because I found something that just maybe proves you have a soul after all?"_

Maybe...one day...after all the tutoring was done and the first semester ended...he could apologize? That was the civil thing to do, wasn't it? Zexion exhaled and put his new papers and notebook into his drawer, closing it with a soft thud. Moments later, he heard the chime of the doorbell. Uncle Auron was downstairs and was the first to answer it.

Zexion looked over at his clock. He had to hand it to her, she was prompt. That was more than he could say for most people. He turned off his laptop just as his uncle and Quistis, who was holding a bag, appeared in his doorway.

"Evening," he greeted tersely, if anything remembering why she was here in the first place.

Uncle Auron was smiling. It was an odd sight, but an endearing one. Zexion always had the opinion that his relative always had a very warm and handsome smile. He'd have it offered to him during those times when he felt like something was missing when he was with his parents. Uncle Auron had that kind of safe and protective demeanor.

"Shall I let you two get straight to it, then?"

Quistis was the one to answer. "Yes, sir! Thank you very much for allowing me in! I promise to take good care of your nephew~"

His uncle let out a deep chuckle, ruffling Quistis' hair like she was just some little girl. "I trust you to it then," he said, walking away. Zexion couldn't help but feel like he had just been offered up for a sale. He had little time to ponder this ominous feeling more when he heard the rustle of fabric being pulled out.

If he wasn't such a serious person, he might've laughed hysterically. As it happened, when Quistis came over and pulled his costume out, all he could do was utter the words,

"Hell. No."

Quistis pouted and gave him a disbelieving look. "What? You can't mean you hate my creation."

"Labeling my impression as _hate_ would be too lenient," Zexion said. "I would prefer _abhor entirely_."

Unperturbed, Quistis pushed up her glasses in almost a challenging gesture. "Well, no matter what you think, this is what you're wearing," she declared, spreading the costume neatly on his bed. She clapped her hands together. "Okay, disrobe, then."

"Quistis, you are the _most_ delusional person I know if you believe for a _second_ that I—_hey_!"

Her hands were on the hem of his black shirt and tugging it up over his torso. At his armpits, she tugged to lift his arms. "C'mon, you have to cooperate! Now arms up!"

Zexion struggled against her. "I-I don't think this is very appropriate-!" His voice was cut off as the shirt was pulled over his head. The seconds that followed were a painful blur full of his yelps and protests and Quistis laughing. When he was reduced to his underwear, Quistis quickly went to work dressing him. In what seemed like seconds Zexion was completely dressed again. He didn't even know how the hell he got pants on again.

"I think...that just qualified as sexual harassment," he said in shock. "How did you...?"

"I should think," Quistis said with a satisfied smile, "you've known me long enough to not to question me."

Zexion kept talking even as Quistis took his hand to lead him to the bathroom. "If I have no idea what's going on, I have to question it," he told her. He stopped speaking though as soon as he looked at himself in the mirror.

Quistis laughed right beside him. "Your face will freeze that way if you don't be careful," she warned in a sing-song voice.

"What have you done to me?" he asked in a horrified whisper.

She turned him around and gestured for him to sit on the counter. "I haven't even finished the torture yet. Now close your eyes for me."

Zexion was about to ask what for when he noticed the stern look Quistis was giving him and immediately closed his eyes. There was a saying not to turn your back on an enemy, and Zexion was fairly sure that that's what he was doing by leaving himself vulnerable for the blond-haired girl. Well, more vulnerable than he had been even five seconds ago.

As soon as he felt something soft against his eyelids, he flinched. Before he could even say it, Quistis chastised, "Calm down. No one has yet died from make-up." The soft sensations continued to brush over his eyelids as Quistis worked and he wondered just what it was she was putting on him. A firmer feeling glided all around his eye, catching him by surprise, but he quickly suppressed his instinctual flinch.

Her fingers brushed back his bangs and carefully put them behind his ear. "Your bangs will be down on this side since I didn't pin them, but I still want to do this eye, too," she said with a smile. When she was done, she put his hair back, smoothing it down.

"Now, pucker up your lips," she ordered, lightly slapping his cheek.

His eyes flew open. Okay, _that_ Zexion couldn't ignore – there was only one thing that she could want to put on his lips... "I think we should stop here, don't you think?" he asked, but he did as he was told. For all of his intelligence, Zexion really didn't know how to outsmart a person – it seemed like he was always the one being tricked into these messes.

Oh yes. Halloween indeed. Grateful that he wasn't facing the mirror, he instead found himself looking at the face of concentration that Quistis was making. She was working this hard to torture him but she herself wasn't even dressed up.

"Are you not attending any social events tonight?" he asked her slowly so as not to disturb her work. He caught a glimpse of the lipstick and grimaced. It felt weird against his lips.

Quistis smiled. "Oh, I do have something with some of my friends in the next town. But that's not until eleven, so I still have a little time to go home and make myself lovely." She capped the lipstick and wiped the corners of his mouth with her finger. "Speaking of which, I think you will be the belle of the ball, my dear~"

She gestured for him to get down from the counter and look at himself in the mirror. Zexion really didn't want to, but he supposed he should see how severe the damage was...

He deserved a slap for thinking he was staring at a girl. It was his immediate thought with the starlight-blue eye-shadow arched over his lids, making his own eyes seem bluer and wider. Earlier, Quistis had pinned some of his hair back with a large black barrette that had a black rose on it so it looked like a flower was pinned right above his ear. Painted on his thin lips was black lipstick that he surprisingly didn't distaste as much as he thought.

The costume Quistis made though was decidedly a boy's apparel, even with the ripped lace and frills. His pants were slimming and vertically striped black and gray and reached just above his ankles. She had given him these heeled boots that he was still having trouble walking in ("How do you expect me to walk up and down stairs in these!"). The tailcoat he was wearing was a darker blue than his eyes but made him look rather skinny when Quistis buttoned it up. Underneath he was wearing a white dress shirt with lacy cuffs that fell over his fingers; and around his collar hung a ripped cravat that surprisingly didn't look ghastly.

Altogether, Zexion should've thought he looked ridiculous – and admittedly, he wanted to bolt out the bathroom and rip off the clothes – because he looked so far from himself. The person in the mirror was nothing like him. What would he do when people he knew saw him – when _Demyx_ saw him?

But then he thought, who cared? Quistis said it herself, hadn't she? "_Think of it this way, you can become whoever or whatever you've always wanted to be on Halloween. The costume and make-up is to keep people guessing_."

Quistis was beside him, a broad grin on her face. "I think I could've done better with the coat, but with such time... Oh, but I still think you look dashing!" she gushed, pinching his cheek. "If you want, I can add a bit of glitter under your eyes."

"I-I draw the line at glitter," the slate-haired teen said nervously. No sooner had the sentence left his lips did Fuu suddenly appear through the open bathroom door, stopping short at her notice of the two teenagers inside. Her gaze fell on Zexion and she looked momentarily confused before stifling a laugh.

Zexion didn't have time to die of embarrassment as Quistis extended her hand. "Oh hello! Sorry for stealing your bathroom, I just wanted to put the finishing touches on Zexion's costume. I'm Quistis." Her smile waned slightly when it was obvious Fuu wasn't going to shake back. "Um, do you need the bathroom?"

Fuu glanced at the blond girl but took another long look at her brother. She made a noise between a laugh and scoff and left the doorway. A few seconds later there was the sound of someone going downstairs.

"That was mortifying," Zexion said through an exhale.

"I think she liked it," Quistis said, referring to the costume. "Who is she?"

"My younger sister," the teen answered, walking out the door. "That's it, then?"

Quistis nodded, walking behind him with her hands behind her back. She was giving him a proud look. "Demyx should be here in a few minutes, so I'd say we finished just in time." She took a seat at the top stair in the hallway, patting the space next to her for Zexion. Obviously this is where she wanted to wait for the time being. "Just remember not to wipe your eyes no matter how much you want to. You'll smudge your make-up."

He found himself frowning at her. "If someone were to inform me that one day I'd be warned not to smudge my make-up, I'd never believe them," Zexion sighed.

"If someone told me that I'd actually see Zexion Anderson off to a party, I'd never believe them," retorted Quistis nonchalantly. When he turned to glare at her, she just smiled sweetly and laughed. "But honestly, Zexion, I'm happy for you. I never pictured you doing something like this. You'll have fun."

"If that's the conclusion you've come to," Zexion said blandly, plucking at his cravat.

A small chuckle left Quistis. "Your sister is cute, too," she remembered with a mischievous glint in her eyes that made Zexion worried. "Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if she's your sister. She has that boyish charm like Roxanne."

Before she could get too absorbed in calculating future plans, Zexion stopped her. "I must request that you don't drag Fuujin into any of your antics." _You'd sooner receive cuts and bruises first_, he mentally added.

After a few minutes of Quistis talking about random things and telling him about the party she was going to later, the doorbell rang. Before Zexion's mind could function again, Quistis was up and skipping down the stairs. The slate-haired teen slowly got up, kicking some feeling into his legs, about to call out for the blond-haired girl...

"Oh yeah, he's just up there."

The door creaked open some more as Zexion began to tentatively walk down the stairs, gripping the railing tightly in case his heels led to his demise. Within seconds, he was staring down at the smiling face of Demyx Watera.

Well, Demyx Watera dressed as a pirate. A visually pleasing pirate with tight black pants and a loose, half-unbuttoned white shirt. His blond hair was down form its usual faux-hawk, strands of his hair spilling down over his kohl-rimmed eye from the red ribbon tied around his forehead, the ends falling over one of his shoulders. Over one of his eyes was a black eye-patch and a plastic sword was tethered to his hip.

Now Zexion had to admit, he never avidly studied pirates before, but he was pretty sure that none of them were as good-looking as Demyx was.

One aqua eye widened at the sight of Zexion as he reached them, followed by an incredulous laugh. "Whoa, you look so different, Zexy. To think Quistis was able to get you to put on make-up and that..._costume_..." His smile became a little awkward, but he turned to pat Quistis on the shoulder. "You've gotta let me in on your persuasive skills, madame!"

"Boys are incapable of learning it," replied Quistis with a patient sigh. "It's a woman's charm. Isn't it, Zexion?"

The slate-haired teen only crossed his arms and looked at Demyx wearily. "Women are troublesome," was all he could say. He caught Demyx still staring at him and he shuffled nervously, his heart pounding. Was the blond mentally laughing his head off, thinking he looked hilarious? Quickly, he mumbled, "L-look, are we departing or not?"

"Yeah, have you told your folks yet?" Demyx asked.

"They know of my plans tonight," Zexion responded simply. "Wouldn't it be redundant to inform them?" The idea of his uncle coming down and seeing him in the costume was enough to make his face turn red. Quickly, he nearly shoved the three of them out the door and shouted a vague message to Auron before closing and locking the door. "Let's go before he comes out, please," he said with a groan.

Demyx laughed and turned to the girl of the group. "Do you need me to take you home, Quis? You can board me ship!" he said with a wink and terrible accent.

"Oh, don't worry about me," she said with a smile. "I've got a perfectly good dollar that can be spent on the metro."

At the notice of the expression Demyx was making, Zexion said, "He doesn't have the highest regard for public transportation." The night was slightly chilly, but he was still warm under all the lace and fabric. He idly tugged at the flower in his hair, wondering if he could ditch it when Quistis left.

"Such a gentleman," she cooed. "But I'll be fine. I live only a few blocks away, so don't think anything will happen."

"Just don't place yourself next to the senior citizen conversing with himself," Zexion advised with a smirk at Demyx.

"Laugh all you want now," the blond said after Quistis left, "but you'll find yourself trapped with a psychopath one day and it won't be so funny then." He unlocked the doors to the car and opened the passenger-side door for Zexion. "My lady~"

The teen's cheeks turned red. "Keep up banter like that, and I might decide to just remain at home," he threatened, narrowing his eyes and taking a step back from the car.

Demyx laughed, waving his hands as if to wipe away what he just said. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" he chuckled. "I couldn't resist. I had to try it at least once, but I won't do it again." He watched as Zexion slowly stepped into the car and sat in his seat. He leaned into the teen, voice lowering. "But I did say you were attractive, right?"

Trying to calm his pounding heart, Zexion turned away, pushing Demyx away from him gently. "At least you have the intuition not to say pretty anymore," he said when Demyx was in the driver's seat and starting the car.

"Maybe you should remind me every once in awhile that you're a guy," Demyx said in a sultry voice that sent a shiver down Zexion's spine so sharply that he visibly jumped from his seat. The blond looked at him in surprise, like he hadn't expected the slate-haired teen to respond in such an immediate and strong way. Zexion realized the same thing and practically died in his seat.

He tried to ignore the smirk on Demyx's amused face and stared out the window, into the night scene as Demyx let the radio play. There were already some trick-or-treaters out, although a bit on the kindergarten side as parents held the hands of angels, Power Rangers, princesses, and ninjas.

Zexion gave each one a momentary stare as they passed. He went trick-or-treating only once when he was little. His mother drove them to one of those richer neighborhoods that went all-out with decorations and had better candy. Zexion couldn't remember much of it, only that one haunted house had scared Fuu too much and they went home early. He couldn't even recall what he had been dressed as, but there had been black cat ears perched on his little sister's head, and she had had a tail.

Catching his reflection in the rearview mirror, Zexion murmured, "Doesn't the costume Quistis made give the impression of going a little...over the top?"

"And I ask again, what's life without extremes?" Demyx countered. "It could be worse. You could've dressed like Lady Gaga or something."

"Lady who?" Zexion shook his head and leaned back against his seat, trying not to smile at the grin that the swimmer gave him. "Eyes on the road. You're handicapped enough with that eye-patch. You shouldn't even be wearing one while driving."

"It wasn't on the driver's test, therefore, I'm not doing anything wrong." After a beat of thought, the blond said, "Now getting me ship through these concrete seas – I'd wager _that_ might have been a problem..."

* * *

Zexion never met Yuna Lesca before, but he did know of her boyfriend, Tidus, who was on the swim team like Demyx was. When Demyx parked his car at the curb of a squat, two-story house, he saw the familiar blond standing outside with a brunette in a long skirt, both of them illuminated under the porch light. With narrowed eyes, Zexion noted that there were no other cars in the driveway, and that the house seemed to suspiciously have no activity inside it.

He turned to Demyx as the two teenagers approached the car, Tidus waving a greeting. "Where are we, Demyx Watera?"

The swimmer flinched. "Uh-oh, last name. I'm in trouble."

"_Where are we_?"

"This is Yuna's house."

"Isn't this where you told me the party would be held?"

Demyx shifted in his seat, coughing into his hand. "Ahem, did I say something like that?" he asked with a wide smile.

Zexion all but wanted to deck him. The back doors opened and Yuna and Tidus got inside. The brunette smiled pleasantly and kindly, and the slate-haired teen believed her to be the most sane one in the car other than himself. She laid a long staff against her that was topped with a golden circle and several tear-drop shapes. White bell-like sleeves feel over her arms. The eyes that Zexion looked into were green and blue.

"Good evening," she said in a mature tone, nodding at both Demyx and Zexion.

"'Sup, Tidus," Demyx greeted to the other blond getting into the car. "Hey, Yu-yu."

Tidus scowled lightly at his friend as he closed the door. "Dude, I told you that if you give my girlfriend one of those weird-ass nicknames you give people, I have license to kill you," he said, leaning forward to the front seats. "And since I'm dressed as a bounty hunter, I can make that into a huge reality."

"You talk like pirates don't know how to fight," Demyx retorted with a challenging grin. "Hey guys, this is Zexion Anderson. He's been my tutor for the past couple of months."

The slate-haired teen could practically see it in Tidus' eyes, the surprise in his appearance and that he was a boy. Goddammit, what was the point in sexes if people couldn't classify you on sight? He never considered himself androgynous, and there mere thought of it sent his stomach in knots.

"Gawking is rude," he said simply to Tidus.

"What? I wasn't gawking!" he protested immediately, turning his full attention on Zexion now.

"Hey, I wouldn't argue with Zexy if I were you. Under all that lace is an iron force that would kick any ass," Demyx said knowingly as he backed out of the curb and out onto the street again. "For instance, I can practically feel the glare he's giving me because I lied to him about the party being at Yu-yu's house."

"You what?" Yuna said. "Demyx..."

"He wouldn't come if I told him it was going to be in a public place!" defended Demyx. He took turns between looking at Zexion and the brunette in the mirror, pleading them to understand. "If I told him we're going to this big thing at the ballroom, he'd never agree."

Zexion snapped his head at him, so fast the flower in his hair bobbed a little. "We're going _where_?" he hissed.

Sensing the distress, Yuna offered, "Don't worry, it will be fun. I promise. And you don't have to do anything you don't want to. Nothing wild will go on. Tidus knows I wouldn't go otherwise." She gave her boyfriend a humorous smile.

"Yu-yu is right," Demyx automatically agreed, practically swerving the car with his enthusiasm. "It'll be great!" He sighed in bliss. "And I ask again, dear Yuna, what is it that a great gal like you sees in a bonehead like Tidus?"

Tidus pulled out a plastic gun and pointed it at Demyx's temple. "Sorry, who is a bonehead?" he asked tautly.

"No shooting the pirate driver!" laughed Demyx, turning sharply down one intersection. Zexion swayed violently and bumped his head against the blond's shoulder. _Idiot_...!

It was going to be a long drive, he concluded as patiently as possible, taking a deep breath.

* * *

Twilight Town had a ballroom that was built back in the early 1900s. Once upon a time, it was a place exclusively for the rich and idle to spend their time, but after it fell into new ownership, the high-class society just stopped coming. After that, it was then used for reserved parties like weddings and private parties and family reunions. Nowadays, the ballroom was occupied with whoever came. It had been painted every color under the sun at some point, the stairs were still sturdy, and in the entrance hall was a collage of graffitied names, tags, anniversaries, and dates going back as early as 1964.

Zexion had never set foot in the ballroom before, but he heard about the parties that went on there – it was undoubtedly a popular hangout for teenagers, so the fact that a Halloween observation celebration was going on didn't surprise him. He bounced in his seat as Demyx drove through the graveled road and found a parking spot.

Over where the ballroom was, neon lights were spilling out of all the windows and music was thumping against the walls, as if fighting to break free. Some teenagers were lounging around their cars just hanging out – or making out, as Zexion noticed with disturbance – others just arriving and making their way towards the building. Tidus was the first out after Demyx parked, his trench coat billowing in the autumn wind as he offered Yuna his hand.

Butterflies had suddenly seemed to erupt in his stomach, flying everywhere, searching for release like the music. He didn't even realize he was making a face until Demyx shook his knee, the blond's face pinched in a slight frown.

"You want to be here, right?" he asked slowly.

Nothing else in his life had screamed for him to turn tail more than at that moment. He swallowed, tugging at his cravat and looking at the dashboard. "Honestly, don't you know I can look after myself?" he mumbled, opening his door. He took a resolute step out, ready to show Demyx Watera that a social event held no terror over him. However, the first person that stared at him as they walked burned away his determination quickly.

Yuna was suddenly at his side, flashing him a beautiful smile. "I really like your costume, Zexion. The blue and black really suits you," she said admiringly.

"None of it was my choice, but...thank you," he said, face growing warm. He glanced at her, gaze looking over her purple skirt and staff and floral-patterned yellow ribbon around her waist that he thought was called an obi sash. "What is it you're dressed up as?"

"A summoner," she replied a bit too-eagerly, her smile brightening. On her other side, Tidus emitted a good-natured sigh.

"Man, you got her started now."

Zexion blinked, not knowing how to respond. "What is...a summoner exactly?"

"Yuna loves RPG games," Tidus informed with a laugh. "Role-Playing Games," he supplied when he noticed Zexion's blank stare.

"A type of video game, O one-who-occupies-himself-with-reading," Demyx cut in, putting an arm around the slate-haired teen's shoulder lazily. He ended up leaning rather heavily on him because of their height difference, and Zexion quickly shrugged him off.

"I love them," Yuna gushed. "A summoner is an initiated person who can, as the title suggests, _summon_ a creature called an aeon. Of course, depending on the game, its not always a summoner that can bring out an aeon."

Summoners? Aeons? Zexion wasn't getting it, and he didn't like that. Though he doubted he would ever get into video games. But if someone like Yuna liked them, then maybe he could, too. He made a side-note to look up RPGs later.

The four were greeted with the pounding music within, a pop song that Zexion wasn't familiar with, as soon as they entered. Shadows of people danced on the walls as their own flesh counterparts swung and jumped and rocked in time with the music playing. There was a stage at the wall furthermost from the entrance, where a band was performing, complete in zombie outfits with a dead girl singing. Orange and black objects were everywhere – balloons on the ceiling, streamers weaving the staircase and strewn on the floor, fake cobwebs on the door ways. The lightbulbs on the chandeliers were replaced with purple and blue ones, giving the room a darker feel. Zexion looked up at the high ceiling, flashes of shadows appearing and disappearing.

Almost immediately, they were surrounded by people and warmth flooded Zexion's body. Tidus and Yuna broke away, the brunette summoner waving as she melted into the crowd of costumed teenagers. Panic suddenly welled in Zexion's chest and he spun around to–

Demyx offered him a smile when the teen bumped into him. "Are you freaking out already?" he asked in light disbelief, bending slightly so that he could be heard. In reply, Zexion shook his head, looking all around them. What was he supposed to do? Dance? Talk? His tactic up until now had just been to follow Demyx – he should've realized a back-up plan was in order.

His attention was brought back to the blond when he was whirled around to face him. "C'mon, I gotta go check up on a few things, and I don't want you to die of social overload," he tease, hand on Zexion's shoulder. And as much as he hated to admit it, he knew that Demyx was at least a little right. Silently, he nodded in consent – where were his words, the beautiful sentences that so coherently fell from his lips? Words were the only weapons he had, laced with sarcasm, and this night was already stealing them away!

He nearly had to jog to keep up with Demyx's sudden and fast movements. More than once, he lost his balance from nearly running in heels he had only worn for an hour. He grabbed the thing nearest him to keep himself steady, his fingers curling around the sleeve of a boy dressed as an executioner, complete with a plastic axe. Zexion quickly backed away from the dark eyes, bumping into a girl in a sexy clown outfit.

"Hey!" she said in annoyance, shoving him back with her hip.

"M-my apolo-"

"Zexy!" A rush of relief went into the slate-haired teen's chest as Demyx took his laced wrist and helped him cut through the crowd until they were at one of the side walls adjacent to the stage. The blond didn't stop weaving them through the teenagers until they went through a door right next to the stage, just where a large speaker was placed and blasting into Zexion's ear.

The second Demyx closed the door behind them, the music became muffled, but only slightly so. It was enough that Zexion no longer felt like he should cover his ears. The room they were in was fairly small, more like a dressing room with its mirrors, and filled with instruments and cords. Lots of cords. It was like Demyx's room, minus the snake.

Occupying the space were three other people, two of them dressed like pirates like Demyx, though Zexion didn't know what to say about the the girl wearing a shredded shirt and knee-high boots.

"God, what took you so long?" demanded one of the pirates, a man with gray hair spilling down his back and shoulders, a similar eye-patch on his eye and impressive scars running down his face. Zexion knew that they weren't make-up. "And very funny with the patch, wise guy, what are you trying to prove?"

"I want to honor you any way I can," lilted Demyx with a grin. "It is my dream to be just like Xigbar."

"Oh, haha, you're killing me, man," Xigbar said dryly, slapping his knee. "Get that shit off your face before I shoot you."

"Knowing you, you're carrying a real gun," said Demyx nervously, holding up his hands in surrender. Zexion felt out of place in the secluded room and looked around to avoid looking at anybody. It turned out to be a big mistake on his part when the shredded-shirt girl was suddenly in front of him, cupping his chin and turning his head sharply to face her. He widened his eyes, blushing before he could get a single word out edgewise and she let go of him.

"Demy, who is this guy you've got with you?" she asked, giving a plain but polite smile to him.

"I'll tell you this, Rinoa," Xigbar began, "he better be Irving's replacement, seeing as he's not here yet and all."

The second guy spoke then, grinning in much the same manner that Demyx did. "Xigbar, you keep tripping out like this, and you'll get gray hairs – I mean, more than you have now, you know," he chuckled, leaning against a dark-blue bass.

Demyx made a twirling gestures near his temple with his finger when Zexion glanced at him. "They're crazy, you can ignore them." Picking up his voice, he said, "Don't sweat it, he's not going to do anything wrong. And he's not here to pick up Irving's slack. This is just a good friend of mine, Zexion."

"'Sup, I'm Zell," greeted the second guy, spinning his bass around where it stood. Rinoa waved with the same smile.

Xigbar went into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. "Yeah, okay, Transy here is all well and good, but in case you didn't notice, we go on in two songs." With the lighter he pulled out, he flickered on the flame and pointed it at Demyx. "This will be your first time playing with us in public, so show us you're good. Might even make you Leon's permanent replacement if they like you."

Zexion raised a brow, looking at the blond with wide eyes.

"Sound check in ten," declared the gray-haired man, standing up and leaving the room.

With a sigh, Zell said, "I just love how charming he is."

"Really? I don't," deadpanned Rinoa, whose sweet exterior suddenly gave way to a weary countenance. She, too, opened the door, releasing the music for a brief moment before exiting out of the room. Demyx waved at Zell and followed, making sure Zexion was following him.

His chest pounded in beat with the music as they got out and melted back into the dancing teenagers. The mixture of lights and sound overwhelmed him again, and he half-hoped that Demyx would latch onto him so that he wouldn't get lost in the strobe of cacophony. Thankfully, Demyx was walking slower this time, though he seemed not to have any particular destination in mind. He finally stopped somewhere in the middle of the crowd and whipped around to face Zexion, who nearly bumped into him.

"You're part of a band," he said, the surprise still somehow with him.

Demyx laughed, rocking from side to side, dancing _with_ the music it seemed rather than moving _to_ it. His movements were fluid and free, following no uniformed style. Zexion didn't know whether to place it as actual dancing or just ridiculous movements.

"Yeah," he shouted. "I was surfing around this one website that helps you find local bands in need, y'know? Their old second guitarist had surgery in his arm and can't play, so they got me for the job."

Zexion smiled before he knew it. He remembered once before commenting on how much it was a waste of Demyx's musical talent that he wasn't in a band. Although he wasn't singing, he knew this was a great opportunity for the blond. And he did have that rather funny-looking instrument in his room... And these lights, this laughter, this hot energy radiating from each person... It was all very much Demyx's kind of atmosphere. Zexion knew that much.

"Looks like you're not completely without talent," he remarked, if anything to save face.

Demyx saw through it and moved closer to him. "You're not dancing at all. What's wrong with you?"

The slate-haired teen was confused. "I'm not under any ailment-"

There was a roll of those aqua eyes as Demyx grabbed his wrist again – no wait, he was moving lower, touching his hand... "Not that, you nerd. I meant you're at a party. You let loose at these things. C'mon, now prove to me this body isn't just for show."

Zexion gripped Demyx's bare forearms as tan hands found a place somewhere at his sides. "I-I don't– I can't dance, Demyx Watera, I've no idea how to-!" He yelped, skin tingling everywhere like electrical currents when he felt fingers flex against his sides, palms pressing into him as they seduced him into movement. He looked around, because people just _had_ to be staring! But everyone was lost in their own dance, too enraptured by the singer onstage.

"_I'll cast you a spell_

_A magic where everyone plays dead forever_

_And after tonight,_

_They'll never remind you._.."

His grip was tight and trembling on Demyx's arm and he looked down at the ground, wondering if that pounding in his chest were beats of drums or his heart. He screwed his eyes shut, looking more like he was about to collapse rather than dance, with the way he was draping on the blond.

"Listen to the music. I promise that it's painless," came a voice at his ear. He shivered, even though he knew he shouldn't, even though he should stop because he was so embarrassed. "I want to have one song with Zexy before I have to go on. But I'll be slow with you, okay?"

"I-I don't know the song...or any steps," Zexion tried to protest, shaking his head. Demyx was swaying, his hands prompting the slate-haired teen to do the same.

"Neither do I, but you can get the flow of it easily enough, right? I think female vocals and softer melodies are easier to dance to when you're a beginner." He laughed then, like his own statement was ridiculous. "It's just me, Zexy. You don't have to impress anyone. Move like this," he gently nudged him to the right and Zexion complied with a jump, "and now like this," he did it again to the left, his movements slightly more natural.

He listened, gulping down a breath, to the soft drums, the alluring voice of the dead girl reaching out to the audience. He didn't know music like this, not like Demyx did. Was it even possible for him to hear it like the blond did, to let go of restraints and just let loose?

What did he have to lose? He was disguised in a throng of as equally masked people, surrounded by pure energy and sound, touching the very person who introduced him to this world. He closed his eyes again, bright lights popping out through the darkness.

Then he was against Demyx, their hands brushing, wandering...

"_Thinking hurts and thoughts don't rhyme_

_To those of us who've never tried_

_To find a face behind our lipstick smiles_

_And as our pretty faces die_

_Our plastic hearts will wonder why _

_The makeup just won't hide the scars of time_..."

He heard Demyx laugh then give out a large whoop. He opened his eyes, startled, clutching his arms once more. An uncertain grin spread on his lips at the sight of the blond being so happy. It started with just a feeling down in his toes, then he was bouncing slightly until he was jumping up and down with Demyx in time to the music. Others had already been doing the same, and now bodies bumped against one another, attracting and sending static electricity. Zexion jumped unevenly, still holding on to Demyx for dear life, not daring to let go...

"Like that," the blond said approvingly with a nod. "Just like that."

"I-I'm truly dubious as to whether or not I enjoy this," he shouted.

"Oh yes, you do," replied Demyx certainly, winking with his one visible eye. The song ended with one final note from the keyboard, and the crowd cheered. Zexion stopped moving, breath heavy and face feeling hot. He was really starting to regret the costume now, with its layers and damn heeled boots.

Demyx pouted. "Aw, time's up already?" He sighed as the band began the intro to their next song. "Well, I better go meet up with the guys. You'll be here, right? I could use some moral support."

"It's not within my experience to be supportive," Zexion admitted breathlessly, loosening his cravat a little. He offered what felt like a smile. "Though there is always time to gain such experience, I suppose."

"That's the spirit!" Demyx cheered, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're a good dancer, Zexy. You should do it more often." With a wave, he went back in the direction of the dressing room.

As people began gaining a feel for the new song, Zexion shuffled awkwardly, trying to decide what to do. He'd have to think up something quick if he didn't want to end up squashed. A tap on his shoulder made him turn around so that he faced a familiar summoner.

Yuna nodded upstairs. "Would you like to join me for a drink?" she asked. She led him toward a small flight of red-carpeted stairs that led to the second story, where a bunch of refreshments had been put out. She went to one table and got two black plastic cups for them.

"Have you ever had apple cider?" Her voice was slightly more audible, though she still had to raise her voice to be heard. "I got us the non-alcohol ones."

Zexion raised a skeptical brow as he took his cup from her. "It was my understanding that this wasn't a 'wild' event," he remarked, scrutinizing the contents of his cup. It looked safe enough... He took a sip. Hmm, not bad.

At this, Yuna sighed, shaking her head. "Well, you know how teenagers are," she said, glancing at the crowd below helplessly. "Can't control all of them." She glanced at him curiously. "Are you enjoying yourself so far? What's your impression?"

"I am...overwhelmed, for want of a better term," he admitted, tapping his finger against the plastic. They moved over to the railing overlooking the crowd, perching their elbows on it. "Where is Tidus?"

"Oh, I told him I wanted to check up on you since we left rather suddenly," she said, giving him a look like she was silently asking if that was okay. "So I left him for a bit, along with my staff. He's with a few swim team friends, though." She grinned, observing him. "It really is great that you decided to come here."

"That's what I've gathered from the opinions of others," he sighed, taking another, longer sip from his drink. His thoughts drifted back to what happened back on the ballroom floor with Demyx. To his surprise, he found he couldn't remember most of it even though it had been only a few minutes ago – all he could conjure up was soft, strong touch...laughing voice...singing...colors and darkness...a slight sensation of vertigo.

Zexion never knew he could let himself _go_ like that. It was certainly a foreign sensation, one he dared to think he'd like to experience again, if just to make the finer details out when he looked back on it.

The song ended and the dead-girl singer announced that while they were in intermission, another band would be on. As the technicians set up, more teenagers made their way upstairs for socializing and refreshments.

"Have you heard Demyx perform before?" he asked.

Yuna shook her head. "I know he's good on the guitar and sitar, but Tidus told me that."

Zexion wanted to add that the blond was also a good singer, but then withdrew that information. If no one else knew about it, then he'd rather keep it to himself until Demyx made it known.

After a few minutes and a sound-check, Demyx and the others got on stage. Another guy was there with him, and he guessed that he was the Irving that Xigbar had been ranting about. As soon as the first guitar riff sounded in the ballroom, Zexion felt his tongue go dry and he quickly swallowed down the rest of his apple cider, licking up the tangy taste from his lips.

The song was heavier than what had just been played by the previous band, and it took Zexion awhile to adjust to the style, but he finally decided it was a decent tune. He didn't even know what was being sung because he was just staring at the blond banging his head and gliding his fingers up and down his guitar. With almost habitual reflexes, he noted that maybe he'd ask Demyx about them, learn more about what he was into.

"Aren't you going to go down and dance?" asked Yuna conversationally as the song continued.

He shook his head. He just didn't have that kind of confidence without Demyx around. Without Demyx, he didn't have that sense of...feeling _invincible_.

With one last crash of the drums that Rinoa played, the song came to a close. Yuna clapped and cheered. Zexion felt almost petrified and just nodded, like that was all the approval the band needed. During the course of two more songs, Zexion alternated between making idle talk with Yuna and watching Demyx intently. He looked so much in his element that Zexion didn't want to tear his eyes away from him. Had that spark always been there? Was it there when they met? When they talked or studied?

Had it always been glowing beneath the surface? And, as with many things lately, Zexion didn't know. Just as everything had swirled and taken its course when he was dancing with Demyx, the slate-haired teen wondered if he should do that with his feelings too. It would be hard, very hard, but he had spent the last few years of his life within the workings of his mind. Why couldn't mind-over-matter apply here as well?

Zell adjusted his microphone then and began to talk. His voice was lost to Zexion though, as he was still staring at Demyx, who was looking out at the crowd. Only when Yuna suddenly shook his shoulder vigorously did he register reality again.

"Wh-what is it?"

"You didn't hear?" Yuna said. She was smiling in excitement, and she was bouncing up and down lightly. "Demyx is going to sing a song. A solo performance!"

"That's pretty ballsy for a newbie," interjected Tidus, who suddenly came up on Yuna's other side. "Maybe this is good. It means he's a badass. Go, Demyx! Kick ass!"

Zexion blinked, shipping his head back to the stage. Demyx? Sing? Here, in front of everyone? His voice was going to reach the very marrow of his bones?

"This song," announced Demyx as he took the microphone, "is for someone very special to me. They probably don't know it. And this song couldn't have been done without them. I hope they love it."

What? Someone...special to him?

Swallowing the saliva in his mouth, Zexion composed himself. Regardless of who the song was dedicated to, he was still going to hear Demyx sing. That would be enough. The rest...he could sort that out later. There was plenty of time to sort out that stuff.

The song began slowly enough, with the blond striking simple chords. Then it became more fast-paced, a sound that vibrated the walls and resonated with the thumping of his heartbeat.

Then he heard the words.

"_Thought of you once today_

_But once was too much to remember_

_Let my thoughts unwind_

_For once, I think I want to scream_..."

No. It was the tune he had heard Demyx humming when he was taking him home after work. The very same song. "_It's not something that anyone has heard. I made it up. Well, someone else made up the words_..."

The very core of Zexion's being felt like it froze. His body became rigid, not wanting to move because the slightest action would make that frozen center crack and shatter...

He wouldn't. How could he? There was just no way... No!

"_Didn't you know that pain felt good?_

_When everything else is lost in shadows_

_This tainted and sharp pain was there_

_I don't want your love and care_..."

Zexion gripped the railing because he knew which words were coming next, and he mouthed them with Demyx's vocals, "_I want you to look inside just once_." The apple cider along with the rest of the contents of his stomach suddenly surged upward, and a nauseated feeling seized the slate-haired teen.

No. No no no. Demyx couldn't know these words, couldn't possibly because they were _his_, the words he poured into writing, the words of the poetry he spilled out from within deep inside himself, the part of himself he kept buried for so long, **so long**...

And now Demyx was singing those feelings, announcing them to the world. Everyone could hear them. Everyone knew his words now.

"_The dream is what used to be_

_The illusions in my head are hard reality_

_I'm trying to fix what I can't repair_

_I'm trying to love the person who is no longer there_..."

Shut up. Shut up. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-!

"Zexion?" Yuna's words cut in, but they were far away, a voice he hardly recognized. He staggered backward, dropping his empty cup.

Why? A gaping wound tore through inside him. The pain and intensity of it stung his eyes, swirled his vision, just as it was when dancing with... No! Not him, not him!

He wouldn't do this.

"_My reluctance is keeping me on the shore_

_While you're out drowning in the waves_

_Let the tide you away,_

_Drag you to another sort of solitude_

_Maybe one day, I'll give in to the current like you_..."

Fool. Idiot. How could he be so stupid? So stupid! The eyeliner was burning his eyes as the tears fell down his face. He let them burn.

Demyx suddenly looked up and saw him. For a second, Zexion felt something stir his heart, felt some silent message being sent to him...

Just as quickly, he severed that connection and turned away, ignoring Yuna calling out to him as he ran down the stairs, crashing into people and tripping on the last step onto the floor. With a grunt of frustration, he took off the boots and ran out towards the entrance in only thin black socks. He didn't turn to see what Demyx was doing on stage. The music had already come to an abrupt stop, but he could still hear Demyx's voice, singing his poems, sharing his feelings that he wanted to keep a secret...

He rubbed at his eyes, but that made them sting more and streaked his fingers in black and silvery-blue. He tore off his rose, letting his hair fall down again. He brushed all his hair into his face so that he wouldn't see, so that others wouldn't see even though he was just _exposed_ to all with ears...

He felt his throat constricting and lungs gasp for air. Was he sobbing? Could people hear it?

Who cared.

The door banged against the wall as he swung it open and he stepped outside, running into the trick-or-treat night.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **I do not own the song _Play Dead_, it belongs to the band The Birthday Massacre.

Demyx's song/Zexion's poem belongs to me. I copyright that completely. I've had this poem for this story for two years... -sigh- And I finally used it...

Criticism? Review? No flames? -sets up ice guard-


	13. Fact: The Heart Can Break

**A/N: **I was in a mad dash with this one, so I'd first like to apologize in advance for the mistakes I'll more-than-likely make :'D -stabbed- It seems I make the most mistakes in this fic xD Do forgive me, this story doesn't have a beta, and since there are only about two chapters left, I don't see a reason to.

I felt excited to write this chapter. I've wanted it for a long time. Confrontation! Emotions! Conflict! This is what I feed on. And so I continue to put Zexy through hell. It's likely that i he were real, I'd be dead now :'D

Please enjoy -bows-

_**Fact: The Heart Can Break**_

At first, the tiny rocks that kept stabbing his feet bothered Zexion and he stopped at the edge of the parking lot, thinking about how dumb he was to have left his boots back at the party. Then his next thought was why he should care, and so he carried on through the grit and sharpness, his breath leaving him heavily.

He needed to find out how to get home. True, he was feeling distraught right now, but that didn't mean he was completely reckless. His tears were cold now, and his lips were beginning to feel chapped. Looking beside the parking lot, he saw a small building that housed bathrooms, and attached to the walls were a few pay phones. If Demyx cared enough to look for him – because he was certain the blond had seen him run out – the restroom would be the first place he'd search. Not to mention Zexion didn't even have change on him.

So he started walking. A good quarter mile from the ballroom was a general store that he took refuge in. By that time, his cheeks were flushed and his feet ached. His head was already beginning to hurt, but he tried to appear as composed as possible when he went up to the counter and asked to use a phone. People gave him long stares as he passed by – apparently not everyone was used to the costumes people wore on Halloween. Or maybe Zexion looked more horrible than he thought.

Uncle Auron picked up on the third ring. Zexion couldn't believe how relieved he was to hear a familiar voice. It seemed like he had been away from the world for years. He closed his eyes, leaning heavily against the counter as he murmured to his relative where he was.

"Well, I'll go over and pick you up," said Auron, but there was concern in his voice. "Did something happen? I would think you'd still be with that boy."

"That boy" was the absolute last person Zexion needed referring to. He covered his face with his free hand, turning away from the curious employee at the counter. "He's not with me. I left. Please, just…" He took a deep breath, tasting something sour on his tongue. "I would like to go home now."

When he hung up, he murmured a quick thanks and went outside to wait. He considered walking aimlessly up and down the aisles, but one, he was tired – and two, he was a person who stilled when upset. Demyx might be the type to move around a lot when something was wrong though. He seemed that way. Then again, Demyx seemed to be a lot of things before Zexion spent time with him, before this night.

Zexion pressed his back against the display window, feeling so tired. By the time Auron came and parked in front of him in the parking lot, he opened the back doors and laid his short body over the seats, closing the door with his bootless foot. Immediately, he was grateful for the warmth inside the car, but still he curled himself up slightly and leaned his cheek against his shoulder.

He felt the car move, and he heard Auron say, "What happened?"

Honestly, Zexion didn't know whether to answer and spill everything or just remain silent. In the end, he settled for murmuring, "An unexpected conflict occurred in my story."

Auron's tone was neither pushy nor indifferent. "Oh?"

Zexion nodded, completely forgetting his uncle couldn't see him. He closed his eyes, his heart pounding furiously in his chest, shards of glass breaking and _breaking_ in his blood stream. He knew if he just didn't think about it, if he tried to compose himself, it would all be better. He knew this, but continued to focus on the pain clawing inside him.

"Yes, a character got killed off."

* * *

Sunday was spent with the covers thrown over himself, his hair fanned over his face and on his pillow. Certain parts of his body felt too hot – his mouth and throat, in between his thighs and his head. Other parts felt too damn cold – his hands, his feet, and his arms were prickled with gooseflesh. Since he was good at keeping down his stress levels, this fever was an unexpected way for him to wake up that morning. He was still in most of his costume, and he felt sticky and uncomfortable, no matter what position he rolled into. Finally, he decided to give up and shed off the rest of his clothes while still lying down, leaving himself in only his boxers.

For a long time, there was just silence in his room. The silence made him think of music, reminding him of the CD Demyx had given him. What would he do with it now?

His father came up only once but left him alone when Zexion pretended to be asleep. Twice Auron entered, not fooled for a second about Zexion's behavior. He knew something happened last night, but he didn't seem to know what to ask. No one was used to the slate-haired teen like this. _He_ wasn't used to himself like this. After feeling the teen's forehead, his uncle left and came back with a bottle of pills and a glass of water. Only when he was alone again did Zexion get up to gulp the medicine down.

Multiple times he heard the phone ring downstairs. It wasn't until his father came up again did he register who it might be, and he pulled his blankets closer to himself, stomach flipping.

"Zexion?" said his father, opening the door. "There's a young man who keeps calling over here, and he's asking for you."

Zexion's breathing slowed, audible with his parted lips. When he realized he wasn't going to be left alone unless he answered, he murmured, "I don't have time for conversations. I need to…to study. Tell him that."

"Fine," his father sighed in exasperation. His door closed and Zexion heard the shuffles of footsteps going down the stairs.

By the time afternoon came around, the slate-haired teen realized that even with all the hours he had to himself, he hadn't focused on anything that happened last night. Indeed the sounds of a guitar being strummed and the ghost of that voice were lingering in the back of his mind, but he didn't dwell on it. He shivered underneath his blankets, wondering how long he could cocoon himself here. He didn't eat save for a few crackers he took from the pantry, and he looked over his homework just once before dropping it to the floor. Studying was the only thing that would best occupy him, yet it seemed depressingly pointless. The thought in itself made him even more depressed.

Then he allowed himself to bury his hot-and-cold body into his bed again, where he severely furrowed his brow trying not to cry.

* * *

What he couldn't avoid was school, no matter how much he wanted to. Missing a single day was out of the question, and so early the next morning, he dragged himself out of his cocoon and went to the bathroom, his blanket stuck on his body until he mustered the energy to shrug it off on his floor.

Sweat was beading all over his skin, and he felt hot, so he thought a cool shower might wake him up better. A dull headache was still buzzing in his skull, but the medicine he took yesterday seemed to have taken away the fever, which Zexion was grateful for. It would be hard enough to focus on the day without having the urge to fall over on his desk and sleep.

After drying himself off, he opened the door to see a weary Fuu on the other side. He blinked in surprise, mostly because he never saw her in these early hours. He figured she must hole herself in her room until the last minute when he was leaving for the bus. Other times of course she wouldn't leave at all and just skip school.

Instead of saying anything, he was as silent to his sibling as he always was, nodding once in a vague greeting before heading back to his room. When he turned back once, he saw she was looking at him. Zexion quickly turned back around and closed himself in his room, the cool air making him shiver a little.

He slapped a hand over his face. "Come on, you can't afford to be weary now," he told himself. He picked out his uniform from his closet and began to dress. That's when he noticed the objects on his desk.

The bottle of pills was still there where Auron had put it, but the glass of water wasn't empty as Zexion left it. It was filled about three-fourths of the way, and when Zexion touched it, he felt how refreshingly cold it was, as if the liquid had just been poured in.

Zexion stared at it in mild confusion. "Who was in my room?"

* * *

Maybe it was just him, but his tie suddenly felt like a noose with how tight it felt around his neck. Before first period started, he made a resolution to stare down only at his assignment, and the teacher when she was speaking. He wasn't allowed to look anywhere else, he wasn't allowed to acknowledge anyone who tried to get his attention, save the teacher (though anyone trying to talk to him never happened anyway, Zexion felt secure in setting down these rules for himself). When the bell rang, he would, as quickly as possible, gather his things and leave – it would even be advisable to have his belongings collected before the bell even rang.

Having these rules in mind, Zexion stepped into the classroom was too relieved to see a certain vacant seat behind him. Now for the unsettling five minutes before the class actually _began_.

More students shuffled in, and everytime Zexion heard the door open behind him, he'd suck in a breath, simultaneously flipping furiously through his binder and listening out for someone to sit behind him. Each time he mentally scolded himself for forgetting his rules so easily.

His unsettlement came to a point when he felt a hand slide down his scarred arm. He commended himself for not even jumping or flinching at the contact, and he believed further plaudits should be awarded to him for not reacting when Demyx Watera spoke his name.

The hand on his arm shook him, and Zexion listened hard to that morning's announcements.

"Zexy? What happened Saturday, man?" asked Demyx.

The only answer given was the principal reviewing what was for lunch that day. The swimmer shifted so that he was in front of Zexion's desk, and the teen could see his untucked white shirt. Demyx bent down, and Zexion's blood pressure spiked at the sight of the tan neck and the lips that sang his secrets that night.

Those lips were turned down, slightly parted as the blond tried to think of what to say. "Hey, are you ignoring me?" He paused, that mouth twisted in distress, his bottom jaw worrying his upper lip, making it a darker pink. Finally, his voice low, he said, "Is it…about what I did? Are you mad because I sang your poem?"

For it to be out there in the open so suddenly made the whole event seem so trivial. And it made Zexion angry. His words were **more** than something trivial, more than something to scoff at, more than something that a random person could come along and reveal to even more random people.

He turned to look at the chalkboard. "How did you get it?" he asked in a barely audible voice.

Demyx considered, but finally he sighed and relented. "It was that day I went over to your house and found your notebooks. When you left to go to the bathroom, I saw that poem and it… I liked it. So I…I took it."

Zexion didn't even need reminding of that day, it stood out so clearly in his mind. "You stole from me," he accused, voice stronger.

His mouth opened and closed several times before answering truthfully, "Yes, I did. I can't say I didn't mean to. I just… It was a side of you I never saw. I knew it was inside you, and I was trying so hard to get it out of you. Zexion, your words… Your feelings are beautiful."

Heat flushed the slate-haired teen's face, and he subtly pushed his bangs over more of his face. "Please discontinue any further conversation with me," he said firmly.

He shouldn't had said anything in the first place, because now Demyx wasn't going to back down. "Zexy, listen to me," Demyx said, still speaking softly so that only Zexion could hear, "what I did wasn't meant to be something mean, I swear. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"Might as well," retorted Zexion in a deadly voice, "so you can go on and sing those out to the world as well."

A twinge of hurt made Demyx's lips tighten briefly. It was then that the slate-haired teen realized that even if Demyx apologized, he wouldn't forgive him. He didn't want to. It wasn't about whether or not he _could_ forgive, it was that he wouldn't. He refused to. In fact, he wanted nothing more to do with the classmate known as Demyx Watera. More than hurt, more than pain – for Zexion believed he exhausted those that night and weekend – what was burning in his chest now…was pure anger and contempt.

And now he was wondering what he could do to hurt Demyx. The odd thing was, he already knew how to do it.

The announcements had ended. They had talked straight through the pledge, and now everyone around them was pulling out homework from the weekend. Luckily, their teacher was off speaking with another member of the staff. Zexion knew he had minutes to start cutting Demyx away from him.

"Do you consider me your companion still, Demyx Watera?" Zexion inquired, his voice devoid of any particular emotion. Saying the blond's name didn't make his chest ache as much as he thought it would, but this relief quickly turned into confident resolve. He was steeling himself.

Surprise must have crossed Demyx's expression, but he wasn't silent for even half a second before he readily exclaimed, "Yes, of course! You're one of my best friends, Zexy!" He moved, setting his hands on the teen's desk. "I always want to be your friend. And I'm so, so sorry for what I did. I'll-"

"Actually, no," interrupted Zexion coolly. "You can take that apology and keep it to yourself. I don't want to hear it. As a matter of fact, I never want to hear your voice again, because I haven't ever valued your existence and I'm tired of putting up with it."

Zexion Anderson did not interact with people often. To be clear, it was that he never preferred the company of others. He did not stimulate others and in return no one ever emotionally stimulated him. It was this thought process that led him to the philosophy that if he did not bond with anyone, then he could not be hurt. It only followed that breaking off the bond he had been building with Demyx Watera should not hurt him.

Looking into those large eyes of aqua though, Zexion witnessed the anguish that suddenly dulled their color, a sight that Zexion felt echoing in his chest painfully.

It must've been a handful of minutes that they stayed looking at each other. Zexion only forced himself to finally tear his gaze away because he knew Demyx was searching inside of him for the _lie_ in those words. As soon as he did though, Demyx was grabbing his arm.

"That's not true, Zexion," the blond said. There was no time to dwell on the fact Demyx didn't use the nickname he'd given to the slate-haired teen. "I know you must be pissed off, so you're just saying things. Things to piss me off. You're trying to hurt me…and dammit, it's working but you _can't_ mean that."

"What's wrong, am I being a _dick_?" scoffed Zexion, breaking his arm free. "Go sit down, class is starting."

"No, not until you talk to me!" insisted Demyx in a voice that was louder than he intended. Others glanced over to them, but Zexion wasn't going to give them a good sight. With surprisingly easy effort, he returned to searching his binder for his homework.

_It shouldn't feel this easy. Why is it so easy to destroy him and myself_?

Finally, the message seemed to sink in. Demyx got up and went to his seat behind the slate-haired teen. Zexion felt the breeze the blond left as he walked past, the scent of citrus and chlorine left in his wake.

As his rules dictated, when the bell rang, he was the first out the door. He expected that Demyx would follow him and demand more explanations for what happened in class – he was actually trying to think up excuses he could give when he turned the corner and realized he wasn't being followed at all. Zexion didn't stop weaving through the crowds of jittering teenagers, but he did slow his pace a little.

_How absurd my behavior is. Demyx is perfectly capable of catching up with me even if I were running. Why am I slowing down, thinking he'll come after me_? The thought of encountering the blond was both uncomfortable and yet desirable, so to stomp down any lingering sentiments he may have, Zexion changed his course.

Miss Lockhart's eyes brightened the moment he walked into the office. "Zexion Anderson!" she said in a somewhat chastising tone as she crossed her arms. "You haven't dropped by in forever it seems! Come in, come in. Take a seat and relax."

"This isn't a pleasure visit," Zexion hastened to inform her.

Miss Lockhart pouted in disappointment and laid back on her chair, arms still crossed over her ample chest. "Then what can I do for you this fine day?" she sighed in disinterest. "If you're going to ask me about your status with Never Was University, I already told you that-"

"No, it's not that. I'm actually here to discuss the tutoring with Demyx Watera." Before she could get too excited, he deadpanned, "I want to terminate my participation in it."

The shocked look she gave him was expected. She sat up, leaning towards him. "Wait, you want to what?"

"I want to bring this little project to an end," he clarified with a nod, as if convincing himself as much as he was her. And it was working.

Miss Lockhart was shuffling papers around, busying herself like it'd make Zexion's decision go away. Finally, she stopped her fidgeting and asked, "But what about Demyx? He's making such progress with his grades. His coach is pleased with the both of you, and so am I."

"There's only a little under two months left in the semester," Zexion pointed out, taking a seat across from Miss Lockhart. "And he's not as completely hopeless as I once thought. He'll learn to fend for himself."

"This is grades, not survival, Zexion," Miss Lockhart said in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Look, are you sure about this? Have you talked it over with Demyx?"

Zexion considered lying, but thought better of it. "Actually, could you notify him for me?" he asked, the idea just occurring to him. When she stared only blankly at him, he sighed. "You can notify him, right? He knows about my displeasure towards him now so this will-"

"Wait, are you mad at each other? Did something happen?" Miss Lockhart's brown eyes softened, taking on a more concerned tone. "I am a counselor, you know. I can help you two work whatever it is out."

Quickly, Zexion's forgotten defenses rose to attention, good as new. "No, that won't be necessary," he insisted while shaking his head fervently.

"Well, I'm just trying to get a grasp at the situation," Miss Lockhart said, tossing herself back to laying on her chair. "I mean, you two were getting along so well before. It wasn't just the grades with you two."

"What do you mean?"

A soft smile graced Miss Lockhart's features. "I mean you, Zexion. Do you remember the kind of person you were like in the beginning of the year? It's only been a few months, but already I saw some differences in you. And I think your time with Demyx helped with that. The both of you were good for each other."

"_Everyone has a story, Zexion, and it's about time you let yours unfold. Starting with this Demyx. I think he could help you_."

Why did everyone seem to think that? All the adults, anyway. Zexion used to take adults as the sane ones with actual opinions, but now he was starting to doubt this. Demyx wasn't good for him. What happened on Halloween should prove that. It was ample evidence. Yet Uncle Auron and Miss Lockhart – even Roxanne – went on about how he was changing. How he _already_ changed.

_Scary_, Zexion suddenly thought, a mirrored feeling of the word making his stomach feel tight. _I don't want to change. I thought I did, but I don't want to anymore. It's scary. It's scary…Mother._

Without mentioning the subject again, Zexion got up and, hugging his binder close to himself, walked out of the office. He heard Miss Lockhart tell him something about reconsidering, but he closed the door off on her words. Leaning against the wall right next to the door with a frown was Demyx.

_Too many overwhelming things at once_.

It took awhile, but finally, Zexion managed to say, "So you did follow me."

"What was that you were talking about in there?" Demyx deadpanned, eyes full of hurt and frustration. "What do you mean, you want to quit tutoring me?"

"Oh good, you know what happened. You'll save both Miss Lockhart and I the trouble of informing you," said Zexion. He readjusted his grip on his binder and began walking down the empty hallway. Second period must have started by now. "Well, that's the way things are now."

"Hold on there!" exclaimed Demyx, jogging to walk alongside the slate-haired teen. "Look, I get that you're the running away type, but-"

Zexion whirled to look at the blond incredulously. "The _running away type_?" he spat.

There was sympathy in Demyx's expression, but his words were strong and didn't match his expression. "That's right. Sorry for being so blunt but I doubt you'll listen to me if I'm not. You're the kind of person that needs to be told straight or you'll never even pay any attention," he stated boldly.

"Is _that_ your conclusion?" Zexion said in disbelief, his voice rising.

"Yes, so just hold your horses for a bit!" said Demyx, grabbing the teen's shoulders and forcing him to stop and turn to the swimmer. "I can't change what I did, alright? What I did on Halloween…I knew you wouldn't like it, but I didn't know you'd run off like that. I was worried about you, Zexy!"

Zexion set his lips in a thin line. "You don't need to concern yourself with me any longer. I told you earlier how you aren't anything to me-"

"You're everything to me!" exclaimed Demyx, eyes wide as he gripped Zexion's shoulders tighter.

His body jolted, his hidden eyes searching into Demyx's oceanic ones, so full of emotion that Zexion was scared to peer into them for too long. He wriggled out of Demyx's grasp easily, backing away a few steps. "You say…such ridiculous things," he finally settled on muttering. He brought his binder closer to his chest as if it were a shield between him and the swimmer. "Take some of my advice here – just because you bluntly state your feelings doesn't mean you'll be understood. In fact, you might even be misunderstood completely. So outbursts like that…" He turned away. "…keep them to yourself."

He hadn't gone five steps without hearing an incredulous chuckle behind him. He stopped walking for just a moment to see Demyx smiling sardonically, his eyes glistening. The sight startled Zexion but at the same time sort of stimulated him.

"Look at this mess," stated the blond, running a hand through his styled hair. The ending strands clung to his fingers invitingly and shone in the sunlight spilling from the window beside them, making Zexion stare. "Here I am, making everything plain as day, and still you…" Demyx sniffed, but he was still smiling. "You're an idiot."

The accusation spurred Zexion back to reality, and he frowned. "Excuse me?"

"You refuse to change. You refuse everything that can attach itself to you," said Demyx simply, spreading his arms. Then he gestured at the slate-haired teen loosely. "You think you're like what you love so much – a fact. Facts don't change, right?"

Zexion didn't say anything. He was too stunned to do so. His feet were rooted to the spot and he felt his binder slip a little down his chest as he slowly absorbed Demyx's words. A fact? Was that what he thought he was? Was that what he wanted to be? There was no way Demyx of all people could come up with a conclusion like that.

Sensing he had left Zexion speechless, Demyx closed the space between them again. "I've got advice for you too, Zexy," he spoke in a sympathetic voice. "You're a human being. And whether or not you know this, human beings have a habit of changing. It happens constantly, without you even knowing it. You aren't a fact. You aren't unchanging. I know this because I've hung out with you these past couple of months."

"I'm not changing."

At first, it looked as if Demyx would retort with something brutal, but then the firmness melted away from his countenance, leaving the kinder expression Zexion was used to. His eyes were locked on something a little below Zexion's gaze. He reached out, bringing his wonderful scent with him as his warm fingers brushed against Zexion's cheek. When he pulled away, his finger was glistening slightly.

It didn't need to be said out loud. The way Demyx's gaze flickered from Zexion to the drying tear on his skin confirmed everything. And all Zexion wanted to do was turn back time, to a past when he didn't know Demyx, when he didn't know his scent, when he hadn't heard him laugh, when he hadn't fallen in love with him.

Demyx was looking at him seriously, his hand still hovering between them. His eyes were a deep well, full of kindness and affection, of silent intent.

"_You're everything to me_!"

Laughter and sneakers skidding on the floor echoed in the hallway, breaking the silence. Zexion's stare shifted to where Fuu was walking out the door with Seifer and Rai. There was a bag of a grassy-looking substance inside.

With a deep breath, Zexion tore himself away from Demyx and walked down the hallway and out the door. The blond didn't follow him this time. _This time, he's really going to leave me alone_, he thought as he locked his eyes on his sister and her friends huddling themselves against the bushes outside the school. _Well, that's fine. It only fits, doesn't it? I can't afford this holding back anymore. He was dragging me down to everyone's level. The level I've been avoiding for years now. _

_I won't be held down by who I used to be_.

Zexion made it over to the three teenagers just as Rai pulled out a lighter from his pocket. "Never touched the stuff before, y'know?" he said with a small grin.

Seifer opened the bag, a smile also on his face. "Well, there's a first time for everything. If any AP comes, just ditch the shit in the bushes, alright?" He stopped short when he saw Zexion approaching, then something like a scowl crossed his face. "What're you looking at, bookworm?"

Ignoring the comment, Zexion tilted his head slightly, arching a brow as he zeroed in on his sibling. "Do you think this is the wisest activity to participate in, given the trouble you've gotten yourself into already?" he inquired bluntly. He knew he was treading into unfamiliar territory right now, and he also knew pursuing this any further could get the shit beaten out of him. True, he never confronted Fuu when she was with her gang, but that was because he was observant enough to witness what happened to others.

But he was feeling confident today.

Fuu's one visible red eye blinked, processing what Zexion had just said. Then she looked over at her friends, all three bursting out in laughter. "_What_?" she choked out through her smile.

Not as daunted as he should be, Zexion counted off on his fingers as he continued to speak."You're going to get caught, which will cause more trouble for yourself and for father. Has it not registered yet that you're going to court for nearly beating someone to death? For sending someone to the hospital for medical care?"

Even though Seifer and Rai were laughing again, the humor was suddenly gone from Fuu's expression. A dark look crossed her features, making her look fragile and completely deadly at the same time. "Indifference," she finally settled on saying.

"Of course you are," sighed Zexion, shrugging. "That's all you ever are. Just go ahead and keep this up. It seems like all you know how to do is make trouble anyway."

Demyx was wrong. People didn't change. In a way, everyone was a fact. "Is it not a fact," he said out loud, and the three teenagers all shut up to look at him, "that you cannot change? Is it not a fact that what you're going to do for the rest of your life is harm people?"

Fuu's face was turning as red as her eyes, and Seifer and Rai's temper didn't seem far behind. Even so, Fuujin Anderson's intense expression of hate was more drawing than theirs. For a second, Zexion almost faltered, but instead he let his sibling's contempt feed his own stirring emotions. Demyx's words were now becoming a ghost in the back of his mind, like they never existed.

Zexion turned, heading back inside. "Unless you want to be here by the time an assistant principal will, I suggest you all move out. I'm not above informing a teacher about this." His fingers had just brushed the door handle when he was stopped by a voice ringing out in the mid-morning air.

"_What do you care_!" Fuu was advancing on him before he knew it, her arm extending to shove him into the glass of the door. Zexion's eyes widened – not only was Fuu's voice breaking, but she had spoken more than two words in a single statement. Her visible eye was wildly wide, her teeth gritting in between her lips. "What do you care what the hell I do! You **stopped** caring! All you care about is school and locking yourself up in your room! You only do that, and you never talk to people, and yet-! And yet Dad still only pays attention to **you**!"

Zexion stopped breathing. Fuu's fist that gripped the front of his shirt was heavy on his chest. He couldn't look anywhere else except for her face, showing over three years' worth of emotion – emotion neither of them allowed the world to see.

Seifer and Rai were standing a few feet behind her, the weed all but forgotten. For a second, Zexion thought that they might cheer Fuu on, but he heard only silence. They must be as stunned as him at Fuu's outburst, enough that they couldn't even jeer or support her.

"Only you get paid attention to, even though you're the one who want to be invisible the most!" screamed Fuu, wetness falling down her scarlet cheeks. "Only you! Dad wants nothing to do with me! All he can talk about is you! I'm the failure! I'm the delinquent! Now I'm going to goddamn fucking _court_ and you can't even worry about me! I'm…I'm… _**I'm your sister, goddammit**_!"

The door handle jabbed Zexion in the back as Fuu tossed him away in disgust and turned heel to run down the sidewalk leading to the school. Seifer and Rai were numbly watching, their eyes wide. Zexion had to admit, he couldn't do much else either. What was one supposed to do in this type of situation? What did someone who was used to feelings do?

_I don't_… He was so confused. Fuu felt like that? Had she always felt like that?

He reacted before he knew it. The image of her retreating back with her fists pressed against her sides got larger as he ran towards her. His arms were flying freely – had he forgotten his binder? He called out her name – once, twice a little louder, his voice slightly more desperate. He frowned when she sped up her pace. He opened his mouth to say her name again just when he saw that she was crossing the street…

…and that a car was approaching her.

Zexion almost tripped as he picked up his pace. His lungs were already growing tired – dammit, why did he spend all his time inside?

A horn blared as Fuu stalked straight ahead, not even checking to see if cars were approaching. At the sound of the horn, she turned, her body visibly freezing on the spot. Zexion extended his arms to move her out of the way. He only had time to briefly curse himself when his shoes hit the street.

The thud of his small body was surprisingly loud. And the sensation of his flesh tearing apart in immediate pain was greater than the touch he felt when he shoved his little sister out of the way of the car. Focusing was impossible once his head burst from the impact. Before he blacked out, maybe even before he shoved Fuu away, he thought for the briefest instant, _I could die right now_.

And that was fact.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **I think I made Zexion experience too many emotions in one day -bites lip- My logic is that since he's undergoing such a change, the conflicting roller-coaster of emotions is appropriate. This is new for me, too. I'm used to writing concrete feelings that a character experiences. So this was interesting to try to write.

Next chapter will be very short, so expect it out soon. I thank all of you for your continued support. I'll try my best as always to give you good updates -determined-

I wonder f Demyx was redeemed in this chapter...or if I just made more people hate him... ;w; I'm sorry, Demy OTL

Review/critique/comment/question? Sorry again for mistakes! D:


	14. In Mind, In Heart

_**In Mind, In Heart**_

Why didn't his mother stay? Was it really so bad having children like them? Were they really so different? He never saw it that way. Yet she was the one to say it was the last straw, and she was the one that left.

Who else would leave? Who else did Zexion have? Fuujin could be next; but he probably already lost her a long time ago. None of this was the way he expected. None of it. Starting with himself, his mother somewhere in the middle, and at the end of it...

* * *

"_Aaaaaaaaaaarrrrrr issssssss iiit ittttttttttttttt alsssss staaa-aaabii eee esss inyyyyect ceeeceeees annnnd heeeeeseemstobe dooining allritenao"_

Falling… Floating…

"_Iiiishartis becominmoar active I thiinkkk heeezz wakinup" _

There was a mild feeling of floating and falling at the same time. He didn't know which was happening, or which one meant that he was dead.

"_Hizeyesare openinnning"_

Voices? Dizziness took him, making his world tilt sideways even though, he realized, he was laying down. At least, he thought he was? What was the whiteness above him?

"_Gogethiz father hemight want to seethis"_

The brighter the whiteness got, the more things he felt stabbing him. He tasted clinical plastic when he barely moved his tongue. Rocks were weighing in on his chest. Something was running up and down his body, cold liquid that turned hot when he recognized it was there. Inside him was harsh pumping, because blood was pouring everywhere and his bones were sticking out of every bit of his skin, fractured parts of his being.

"_Zexionitsokay canyou hear me honee?"_

He panicked. The cotton from his ears was fading away and the first clear sound he heard was frantic beeping. The rocks on his chest made it hard to breathe. Fragments of his splintered bones must've lodged themselves in his lungs, making it seeringly painful to breathe.

"_What'shappeningtomyson?"_

"_It'sshock mister anderson it'scompletelynormal zexion honey ineedyou to calm down you're in a hospital it'sokaynow"_

Scream. He wanted to scream. His ears were hearing the beeping that turned into the sound of a horn blaring, just like the voices around him. Smears of colors danced around him, but his mind wouldn't let him register them.

**I'm gonna die I'm gonna die please get me out of here!** He opened his mouth to scream, but that hurt, too, and proper movement of his jaw was stopped by something hard and plastic covering his nose and mouth. The panic swelled more, breaking away all of his insides. **I'm trapped I'm trapped**!

A sandy brownish color joined the other colors and it shouted his name. There was another smear, dark and blue, hesitating in the background. The colors all burned brighter into white so that it was all he could see.

His body jolted – here, there, everywhere; wanting to move while the action made the pain fall everywhere.

"_He'sgoing to hurt himself tryto give him some stressrelievers"_

"_Stopit Zexy it's all right it's all right"_

His name. This voice sounded desperate but firm. And familiar. This color and this voice were warm. His vision blurred more and he felt as though he were suffocating.

The smear of sandy brown moved closer, making itself clearer. The warmness from the voice now enveloped him, soothing him. And he allowed this to happen, because it was stopping the feeling of bleeding and breaking. His thrashes slowly lessened. Over and over the voice said the same words…

"_It's all right it's all right it's all right_"

**Is it all right…?**

* * *

How did one prove that one would stay with another? Is it possible to factually state, "I will be with you always"?

Grasping at possibilities and impossibilities...tearing opinion from fact...was so very tiring.

Was this the time when one was just supposed to "live"?

* * *

**Ending A/N: **Like I said, this one was going to be really short. Sort of a hazy time for Zexion. Well, the end is near. I hope this came out well; it was hard to write out how confused and panicked Zexion was TAT

Reviews, mayhaps?


	15. Opinion: You Can Know a Stranger Well

**A/N:** Greetings! I'm sorry this update took so long. Many events happened at the end of the school year, but at least it's over. Truly over. I graduated high school~! So now I have to get ready to tackle the big, bad "Real" world out there :P And I went to a sort of "camping" trip at the university I'll be attending, so that ate up some time as well. Ah~ But now I have a summer to update like crazy!

This chapter ended up being something all by itself... Nevertheless, I really hope you enjoy; I worked rather hard on it :B -bows-

_**Opinion: You Can Know a Stranger Well**_

In his dream, the sunshine made Demyx's hair glisten and his aqua eyes sparkle as he surfaced from the pool, laughing. Zexion lingered over the edge, sitting with his knees pressed to his chest, smiling faintly. He was wearing his school uniform, but Demyx swam in only his jeans.

There were a great number of words pressing on his tongue, all hateful, all loving, but he didn't want the wrong thing to come out, so he decided to remain silent and play as the observer. That's how it always was, after all. He said nothing even as Demyx swam up before him and reached out, brushing his hands against Zexion's hips. The sun made liquid reflections dance over his tan skin like glowing snakes.

"Come in with me," he said.

Zexion fervently shook his head. _No. I can't_.

"Why not?"

Instead of answering, Zexion looked away, down into the clear, bright water. _I don't think I can handle it, _was what he thought to say.

But just like in real life, this dream-Demyx could also read his thoughts. "You'll be with me. Don't you want to be with me?" he asked gently, wet hands dampening Zexion's pants, yanking one leg into the water.

Suddenly in a panic, he recoiled. _NO_! He closed his eyes tightly, pressing his palms against his ears. _I want you, but I'm scared_! This was the right thing to say, but the words couldn't leave his lips. Where were his words? Why couldn't he speak?

When he opened his eyes again, his vision was blurry. Pool water surrounded him – he had gone under. His long bangs haloed over his face, swaying in the waves. Bubbles choked him, curling him in a ball. Drowning. He was drowning. He flailed, but the surface was so far above him, the sun blinding him. Was he even moving? It certainly felt like he was getting nowhere.

He coughed, trying to breathe, but only bubbles came out, floating above him. His eyes stung from the chlorine and his arms began to tire.

Demyx was above him, staring with wide, stunned eyes.

"I'm sorry," Zexion said, voice so clear under the water, reaching up for the infinite surface. "I'm sorry I'm scared."

The sun got brighter until it burned his eyes.

* * *

"…Sorry."

As soon as the word began to leave his tongue, Zexion knew he was awake, leaving the murmur sound empty without the right ears to listen to it. Even so, his voice sounded so quiet. Very gradually, his opened eyes focused to the slightly dim light above him. Clinical cold made his skin prickle with gooseflesh. He tried turning his head, but a sharp pain slicing down his right shoulder area that made his skull throb made him stop.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman standing to his left, next to a small assortment of hospital equipment along with an intravenous needle hooked into his arm, the bags obscuring most of the woman's face. His right arm was in a sling tied around his neck. Zexion quickly tried not to think too hard about the needle secured in his left arm, his scarred arm, and the taped-down syringe.

_If_ _the needle is not sited correctly, or the vein is particularly fragile, it ruptures and blood flows out_. Those weren't reassuring facts, but they were the first to come to him. He settled for looking at the gray wall in front of him, focusing on the small drip of the IV bag.

"Wh…Where…am I?" he asked, voice hoarse and tongue feeling too large. No one else was in the room save for himself and the woman.

"How long have you been awake?" she asked in surprise. Her shoes squeaked on the floor as she came closer to him, her softly smiling face now in view. Her light-brown hair was wind-swept and her honey-colored eyes were kind and young. "I imagine you must be stiff and hurting. Especially your little noggin."

On cue, the pain came back, and Zexion screwed his eyes shut, flinching. The nurse rubbed his hand. "Don't worry, you'll get something for that," she said, looking at the clear sack. She didn't stop smiling, and it wasn't too bright or wide. It was polite and empathetic. A peculiar smile, but Zexion didn't dislike it.

"Would you like to see your family? I'm sure they'd be thrilled to see you awake."

Zexion's stomach clenched. Oh, his family. This must've cause a lot of trouble. His father would no doubt criticize him for walking straight into a… He paused midthought, realizing how he had ended up in this hospital bed. Even though he knew he and the nurse were the only ones in the room, he couldn't stop himself from sweeping his gaze around once more. The right, immediate questions were on the tip of his tongue, but he didn't know how to give them voice. It was too much effort to get his lips to part and his mind get the words in order. And because he had been doing it a lot lately, he settled for staring straight ahead, seeing endless spirals on the wall, pulling him down.

"If you don't mind the intrusion," said the nurse gently, "I couldn't help but gather you pushed your sister out of the way of a moving car."

Oh, so even the doctors and the nurses knew? Very slowly, Zexion tilted his head towards her. He worried only slightly that she wouldn't be able to read him with the tired expression frozen on his countenance.

"Admirable act, to be sure," she said, putting her hands over one another. She swept her eyes over him and nodded – in what, he didn't know. "Though your sister is fine, I wonder if it was rational what you did."

Zexion glanced away, because he wondered the same thing. The nurse must have mistaken the gesture to mean something else, because she amended, "Don't think I'm judging you, it's not my place." Then he heard her walk away and the door close. He tossed his head back to flip his bangs away, pain in his shoulder again.

That's when it finally hit him. Zexion panicked. Quicker than he anticipated, he glanced towards the door only to see he was, in fact, alone. Now, he couldn't really move either arm – his right was in a sling and probably for good reason. His left arm was preoccupied with the IV needle, something he'd really rather not mess with. Still, feeling the loss with his hands might've been move painful. Besides, he didn't need them to know the reality of the situation.

His bangs weren't covering his eye anymore. Even as he shifted his head as much as his neck and head would allow, waiting for his hair to fall over his face, he knew it wouldn't. Nothing could hide his face anymore.

He closed his eyes tightly, talking a deep breath. It felt like he was back in his dream, drowning.

* * *

More relief filled him than he thought when he opened his eyes again to see Uncle Auron sitting at the chair by the window. A knee-high table beside him was occupied by keys, a copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_, and cigarettes. Strange, Zexion never knew his uncle smoked before. He never smelled like it, and the room certainly didn't smell peculiar, though Zexion was sure it had to do with the fact their location was in a hospital.

The slate-haired teen swallowed, his throat feeling raw, and his lips chapped as he ran his tongue over them. His uncle looked up from gazing out the window and was soon at his side.

"You pulled through," Auron stated with relief and a rare smile that weren't-so-rare when directed at Zexion. "Though I never had any doubts. It was hard to believe though, when you were hauled in here. Never had I seen you worse for wear." His uncle blinked, realizing he was babbling, of all things. "How are you?"

Zexion opened his mouth, only because this was the man he trusted most in the world. It took some effort, but finally, his voice kicked in. "I've been hit…by a car…for the second time in my life. I will…probably get scars on my right arm…that will match my left. My head is…killing me. And…and my…bangs have been cut." He said all this in a creaky voice and slowly to keep the clawing at his throat to a minimum.

"Personally, I believe it to be a good look for you," complimented Auron, reaching out and gingerly brushing against the newly cut hair. "At least it wasn't a complete hack job, right?"

Zexion gave a small breath that was supposed to be a half-hearted chuckle. "So I don't think I'm okay, given that list." He glanced at the book on the table. "Have you…finished?"

"About an hour before you woke up," said Auron. He sat at the edge of the bed, near Zexion's legs. "You're a live, aren't you? That's as okay as it gets."

"Alive is the bare minimum," argued Zexion, pressing his head into the pillows. His thoughts drifted briefly, and he asked, "Where are Father and...Fuujin?" His cheeks warmed slightly – it felt odd to ask such a question.

Auron, of course, didn't see it that way. "Visiting hours are about to end, so your father took Fuu home," he explained simply. "But he told me to wait here until he got back."

The reply made Zexion confused, and he might've frowned could he feel his face. His father was actually missing work to see him? Although it was true Maxwell Anderson was not heartless, he never even took time off to see Fuu's choir concerts, to stay for Zexion's academic decathlons, to even stay for long the first time Zexion landed in a hospital. And for awhile, the teen thought he'd be waking up in an empty room again – yet here sat his uncle saying his father was coming to visit him. What was so different about the circumstances this time?

What made this okay?

Auron gave him a glance. "I wouldn't put myself in a dark place yet, Dr. Manette," he quipped with an arched brow. "You've still got that 'golden thread' of yours, on top of your family."

"Demyx Watera has nothing to do with this," said Zexion automatically.

Auron raised an eyebrow. "He's the one who took care of you when you got hit."

"He wasn't even anywhere near me." It surprised him to realize how quickly he could retaliate in opposition. Had he always done that? It made him sound so defensive, so in denial. Why hadn't anyone told him about it? It was just as well – everyone else seemed to know everything else wrong with him and never said anything.

"He really did," insisted his uncle lightly. "Fuujin relayed the story to us." A slightly amused look crossed his face. "She actually told the whole story to us. Her words never stopped or had a limit. Surprising, hmm?"

His sister yelling at him seemed like it happened mere seconds ago. That's how fresh they were in his mind. That's how deeply she had affected him. She had carefully constructed her words for so long that they lost all meaning to him. She might as well not have talked at all. But so many years worth of hate, loneliness, and hurt had crashed down on both of them at once.

"Well, not now," said Auron, going over to Zexion's bed. There were an assortment of buttons right next to him, and his uncle pressed one. "For now, you need to see the doctor. He's been wanting examinations, especially that shoulder and head of yours."

"Is that why it hurts so bad?"

A knock sounded at the door and Auron announced access in. When the door opened, Zexion's heart jumped a little, not knowing what to expect.

"Just in time, doctor," Auron said with a nod. "He woke up not long ago."

A man walked up to Zexion's bedside, dressed in a white coat with jeans underneath. He had wavy, albeit unkempt, dirty-blond hair up in a short ponytail and a pleasant, slightly unshaven face and hazel eyes framed in square, brown glasses. When he smiled, he bared his teeth. He had his ID clipped to his jacket like any other doctor, but Zexion didn't need it.

"We haven't been properly introduced yet," said the man. Knowing the state of Zexion's arms, he leaned over and squeezed his hand softly. "I'm Dr. Watera, though I suppose you're better acquainted with my son?"

The Wateras all had such a warm presence; it had been easy to tell. Without even knowing why, Zexion felt shy around him and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Zexion nodded mutely.

Dr. Watera's smile grew, flashing his teeth. "You are a very lucky boy," he lilted, getting up to take the chart that was hanging at the end of his bed. "Miraculously, none of your ribs cracked. Your internal organs aren't injured as well, which is excellent, truly excellent. However," he flipped a page over, "your head experienced some head trauma and your right shoulder dislocated, your collarbone breaking in the process. That right arm of yours also broken."

Zexion nodded, again without saying anything – this time trying to hide how suddenly nervous he was. The head trauma didn't sound bad and neither did the broken arm – both had happened to him already in the last car accident. But his arm had been out of its socket? He nodded yet again, even though nothing had been said.

Pushing up his glasses, Dr. Watera asked, "How is the area around your right hip?"

Honestly, Zexion hadn't given it any thought. With the bruises and clothing burns on top of the medical injuries, all of his body hurt on some degree. "It feels fine."

Dr. Watera offered him a gentler smile, closing his lips. "You had surgery on your pelvic bone. It happened as soon as you got in, because of the extensive bleeding. It'll be shaky walking for a bit, but for now, we'll be getting you around in a hospital wheelchair."

"I had surgery?" Zexion repeated with wide eyes. "Could you... Is anything else wrong with me?"

Settling the chart against his chest, Dr. Watera gave him a sympathetic look. "That's it, thankfully. I'm sorry, you must be so overwhelmed. If I may..." He sat down at the end of the bed. "You had a shock attack while you were in the middle of being examined. Do you remember that? Your eyes were open."

Zexion knew, but he didn't want to remember. That had been a scary time. He couldn't remember being more scared. Luckily, Dr. Watera moved on.

"Well, it was about an hour or so after that. You were under, of course, and the bleeding has been taken care of. Still, there's some things we'll have to check on from time to time," he explained. He kept his hazel eyes on Zexion's the whole time, smiling softly. It comforted the teen to see it.

"Are you my actual doctor?"

The question was apparently amusing as Dr. Watera laughed. "Yes, I am. My son all but ordered for me to take care of you, and my superior was okay with it."

He hadn't expected any less. He wanted to ask where Demyx was at that moment. But at the same time, he just wanted to sleep and get this all over with. Even though he could feel all the cold and pain, nothing seemed quite real yet. And he was so exhausted that any moment now he expected to be drowning in a pool again. The events all felt like a dream. The sandy blur of color from before, that had called his name – had that been real?

* * *

Purple and red spots danced before Zexion's eyes when Dr. Watera pulled the small flashlight away. After writing down the results of the test, he turned back to face the teen.

"Do you know what year it is?"

It was a very tedious process, but Dr. Watera had emphasized the importance of the examination for trauma patients, especially those with head injuries. It almost didn't matter, as Zexion had already gone through the tests before in his first car accident. After this, he'd go on to have his bones X-rayed.

"What's the month?"

"November."

"And your birthday?"

Zexion sighed wearily. "November sixth."

More writing. Demyx's father looked slightly sad. "Did you know today is November fourth?"

"I suppose I do now."

* * *

It was easier than Zexion thought to gain full awareness again. That was fine. He had been to the hospital before, and was fairly sure how everything was going to work out. Then again, he was knocked unconscious this time around, and had had surgery, of all things. When he was alone, he'd tuck his left hand into his gown and feel over the stitches at his hip area.

_I really messed up_.

His father showed up right after the examinations, though Zexion pretended to be asleep in order to avoid awkward interactions and conversations he wasn't ready for. He heard his father's voice and Auron's, but he didn't bother trying to hear what they had to say. Eventually the voices faded and the door closed.

Zexion opened his eyes, but saw he wasn't alone.

Fuujin was sitting at the chair Auron had occupied, hugging her knees closely to her chest. It never occurred how small and thin his sister was, her legs and arms like sticks coming out of her body. For a fleeting instant, Zexion thought of a baby bird, a naked thing that couldn't fly. Pathetic and delicate.

Her head was nestled on top of her knees, and her red eye was looking straight at him. It was too late to pretend that he was asleep. The nakedness of not having his hair over his face was suddenly made painfully obvious, as Zexion had nowhere to put his stare, except to return Fuu's. The air conditioning turned on, buzzing the room with icy chill. This along with the drawn curtains suddenly gave Zexion a foreboding feeling.

Her eye was wide as Zexion blinked absently at her. Her leg shifted forward as if she would walk towards him, but froze, recoiling to fold herself up again. Zexion picked at the blanket idly, not having the freedom to move with his healing pelvic bone.

Fuu opened her mouth a few times. Her face was quickly turning pink, expression troubled. "Want Dad?" she asked finally, looking at the door.

Almost making the mistake to shake his head fervently, he said, "No, that's fine." And because he was genuinely curious, he inquired somewhat sarcastically, "Taken to two- and one-word sentences again?"

Fuu looked down, shaking her head and tousling her short hair. "It just came out that way," she explained, stretching out her fingers and wiggling them.

"Where are they?"

"Dad heard your examinations are done, so he went with Uncle to talk to the doctor. Uncle convinced him to let me wait here. I was...scared 'cos he said you're awake," she elaborated, still flexing her fingers. She seemed to be avoiding all visual contact with him. "Is your...shoulder okay? It was gross-looking after you got hit."

"What _did_ happen after I got hit?" he asked, frowning slightly. He hadn't gotten the story from Auron quite yet.

Fuu hugged her legs tighter, her hands balling into fists. "That asshole that hit you kept going. He never stopped. Didn't try to make sure you were okay," she growled, gritting her teeth. Shaking her head, she said, "I didn't know what to do. You were just lying there, you know? Seifer and Rai came, and we moved you to the sidewalk. God, it was brutal. You looked so fucked up. I think that's why Captain Asshole didn't stop."

Other little sisters might've started crying when recounting such a story. Zexion expected something from the usual apathy, but Fuu was a temperamental girl – and she was getting angry. In its own weird way, the gesture was endearing. It was the first time in years that he could see she cared for him.

_Maybe she never stopped_, he thought, remembering her outburst. It made him wonder how he viewed his sister. What was his position? What were his feelings?

"Seifer and Rai?" he prompted skeptically.

Knowing what he was really inquiring about, Fuu narrowed her gaze defensively. "We may not be model students, but we're capable of being actual friends. I needed them, so they helped. It's not a hard concept," she hissed. Then she gasped and put her hands over her mouth. "N-no, I didn't come here for that. I wanted to say I was sorry. I'm sorry you had to get hit. Why...why didn't you let it be me? Fucking God, Zexion, you're going to college next year, and now the money for your school will be for hospital bills!"

"It would've been the same situation had you been hit," he reasoned simply.

"Shut the fuck up," she snapped, but Zexion now knew enough to infer this was more of a reflex rather than her actually being mad at him. "You're so goddamn stupid for a smart person." She sniffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Soon after, tears began falling.

Now Zexion felt awkward. Even when Fuu talked, he hadn't known how to deal with her when she cried. It was like it was the strangest sight in the world to him, to see someone crying. This time wasn't any different. He froze, wondering what to do as Fuu sniffed.

"Um... Does this circumstance require me to ask if...you want to come here?" he tried sincerely.

She pierced him with her glare. "Come where?"

"Here," he explained tersely, frustrated that she was making this more difficult for him. He gestured as best as he could with her expression. "The situation would call for hugging, I think, but considering my arms are like this... You could just sit here with me on my bed." At her blank stare, he sighed, but not impatiently. "I'll make this plain, Fuujin. I'm not mad at you."

Incredulity stole her expression. "How can you not be mad?" she asked, voice trembling. "Should be."

"It's not as if you hurt me. After all, you didn't leave me."

"You expected me to, though, didn't you?" she accused softly.

He didn't see the point in lying. Somehow lying could be seen as the same thing as the neglect he'd inflicted on her for years. That's what his sister had all but insinuated – that he'd left her. He nodded in answer to her question. "Yes, I did," he murmured. To his surprise, his cheeks grew slightly warm – in what? Shame?

"I didn't though," she said insistently. "I didn't leave my brother. Even when Dad didn't want me near you."

Zexion blinked in surprise. "He thinks it's your fault," he concluded with a grimace. He shouldn't have expected any less from their father. "I can inform him that's not the case."

Fuu shook her head. "That's fine. I feel like I deserve it, you know, just a little," she said with chuckle. She smiled somewhat awkwardly, chancing another look at him. "Because I yelled at you like that, then left. If I had to be truthful, I didn't...think you'd follow me."

"I suppose we're both surprising each other," Zexion said in light amusement. When his sister laughed softly at that, he couldn't keep from making a small smile. Talking like this gave him a queer feeling. It felt like he was talking to both a stranger, and an old friend – like a sister he'd ignored for years.

"Why did you stop talking to me?" she whispered, resting her cheek on her knees.

Turning to face her, he pointed out, "To be fair, you stopped talking first. After that phone call a few years ago."

"But you had already changed by then. I'm not saying that I liked that Zexion better, because...I know how much you hated being that person." Knowing was deep in her eye. "but at least you didn't ignore me. I hoped you would still talk to me, you know?" She sighed, getting up and coming to his bed. When the slate-haired teen didn't protest, she crawled on and curled like a cat at his feet. It was a childish gesture that proved how little their relationship had moved on.

_In this room are two children_.

"I didn't know you smoked marijuana, Fuujin."

"It's relaxing," she replied simply, shrugging. She wasn't looking at him, but near his drip bag.

"That substance is horrible for your mind and body," he said with a frown. "Do you do anything else? Heroin? Morphine? Pills?"

The bed sheets rustled as his sister shot up, eye wide. "Chill," she said, holding up a hand. "I am not hardcore with drugs, Zexion. Weed's really all I do. I haven't even gotten into cocaine; that shit made my nose bleed." She sighed, straightening up, counting off her fingers. "I don't do alcohol, either. Something about the image of a girl with a can of beer getting drunk of her ass really bugs me."

"So marijuana is really it?" he asked, somewhat skeptically.

"Yeah. But that doesn't make it any more okay," she said guiltily, curling up once more.

Gazing at his little sister intently, he nodded. "You're right," he choked out in a raspy voice. He closed his eyes, feeling his bottom lip tremble. God, how did things get so messed up? He didn't even know where all the broken pieces were to himself, to this family. _This isn't a family Hasn't been for years_.

Pressing himself into his pillows, he whispered, "It doesn't make anything okay." When he opened his eyes, he was crying, tears pouring uncontrollably down his cheeks. It confused him, but he knew why he was so sad.

Zexion thought he had found the solution to everything. It ended up making him part of the problem.

He didn't say anything. For once he couldn't find any of the words. Luckily it seemed he didn't need to say anything. Fuujin looked over at him, shock on her face as she took in the image of her apathetic big brother actually showing enough emotion to know he was upset. That, maybe, he was grieving and regretting the past.

Slowly, her lips parted, she nodded. She began crying again too, and she nodded. It seemed like aimless nodding, but it was what went unspoken that she was referring to. They hadn't talked in so long, but they learned to read others because of this. Words weren't needed with the Anderson siblings. They knew. Zexion knew.

* * *

**Ending A/N: **So this ended up having very little Demyx in it; less than I thought x'D I apologize, I just thought it was important Zexion and Fuu had their little moment together. IT proved to be very interesting to write - they have such different personalities that it didn't turn out like a typical heartwarming scene as I suspected it would xD I hope it wasn't too difficult to understand -bows-

**EDIT**: Thank you to **Guest**-san for correcting me on one of the facts I put x'D I'm sorry, I get all that from random websites -bows profusely in apology- Oh, and I don't think you're full of crap! D: -glomps-

Please be kind and review~ Your thoughts are always appeciated :)


	16. Fact: Everything Changes

**A/N: **I feel as though I can't take this story lightly anymore. Recently, I've been getting more comments about how tense and exciting the story is becoming and that it's one of the only Zemyx's they follow now OwO So I can't tread half-heartedly or say, "Eh, I'll leave it at that." I must do my utmost for all of you, who have made me feel so very special! ;w;

Thus is why it took so long to update, coupled with the fact I have a job with my aunt for the summer. Nevertheless, I would be overjoyed were you to enjoy your read of this chapter -bows deeply-

For **ShadowHarts** :)

_**Fact: Everything Changes**_

The day before his birthday, Fuujin picked up the box of cigarettes from the table. She plopped down on the chair next to the window, examining the box with something like interest. At first, Zexion thought she was considering taking a few from the package, but then a smirk crossed her face and she tossed it back on the table.

The two of them were left alone at the moment. Zexion still had yet to talk much with his father, and even though that suited him just fine, he also knew there were some things he had least wanted to clear up with him. Like why he decided to visit the hospital as often as he had. "So was getting hit by a car the way to go to get your attention?" Fuu had asked sardonically, mimicking what she believed her brother's thoughts were.

Only that was wrong. It wasn't that Zexion craved his father's attention, although he supposed it would be nice to have it. Right?_ Look at this, I still have no idea what I want_, he thought, looking out the window into the sunny autumn sky. No, that was untrue as well. He did...want one thing.

He wasn't allowed nor really able to get out of his bed without a nurse helping him into a hospital wheelchair. So for hours he had to settle for the simple fact that his bangs were no longer covering his face. He never realized how much he relied on his hair to be a barrier between himself and others until both eyes were naked for the world to stare into. Suddenly, Demyx's idiotic idea that one could know another's thought by peering into their gaze seemed true. And Zexion was scared what others would see in him, mostly because _he _didn't know what was there.

Then something flat and circular was tossed onto his lap, slapping onto his thigh. Zexion blinked at the black object, a thin layer of dust covering it. He frowned, looking at Fuu who was standing at his bedside.

"It's a mirror," she explained tersely, nodding at it. "I figured...maybe you'd wanna know how you look?" Something of a light chuckle passed her lips. "You've had those bangs forever. And you look so different now."

Not saying anything and yet still oddly..._touched _at the gesture, Zexion simply stared at the mirror. He wasn't prompted for any answer though, as Fuu walked around and towards the door. She spared a glance back at him, tugging on the black skirt of her uniform - she had come to the hospital right afterschool, taking the bus on her own ("and Dad was sooo happy about it").

"Ah, so I'll see you tomorrow then?" she asked quickly.

He must've nodded and said something in the right as Fuu gave a small smile and left, closing the door behind her. A frown knit his brows together as he tried again to wrap his mind around the current relationship between himself and his sister. Whatever it was, it was certainly better than the one with his father.

Since his right arm was still in the sling and cast, he picked the mirror up with his shaky left hand. Obviously Fuu had gotten this from one of the boxes in the downstairs closet, with how dusty it was. With a blush, he realized perhaps she had noticed the sudden missing barrettes he had borrowed on more than one day. Well, he obviously wasn't going to need them now.

The mirror clicked open with the prodding of his thumb, and Zexion willed his hand to stop shaking. Finally, the mirror, and the reflection, settled. Zexion at first looked away, but then shook his head, meeting his reflection's eyes - both of them.

A thick, dark-red mark extended from just below his hairline down to his eyebrow, stitched up tightly with thread. Zexion quickly looked away from that.

His head had always been parted to the side, and the bangs that had been over his eye were cut above his brow - a neat line. It looked strange compared to the other side of the part, where his hair was still longish and uneven from growth. With a small frown, he tucked those bangs behind his ear, thinking perhaps to cut them later. He hadn't had short bangs for years, even before his mother left. Now without the hair, the too-wide eyes were back, and Zexion wasn't thrilled at the sight of them being a pair again.

Fuu opened the door again, and Zexion kept staring into the mirror, trying to get used to it. He put it down with a barely audible breath, about to ask his sister if he _really _looked okay. Then he stopped, lips slightly parted and eyes wide as Demyx closed the door softly.

All the breath in Zexion's lungs left him as he took in the sight of the blond, the beautiful blond in his unkempt uniform, tie undone, and... Zexion looked down, cheeks feeling hot. Oh, he had to look so stupid, so pathetic right now. Why, just _why _was Demyx Watera stepping into his room?

"Zexy..."

The slate-haired teen jumped when the swimmer suddenly got on the bed, warm arms encricling him as he was embraced closely. The act was so impulsive, so personal and reckless and thoughtless...so _Demyx _that Zexion realized how much he had missed it. How much he missed Demyx. He felt the tears well up, but he didn't dare make a sound.

"Oh man, you're fine, you're awake!" exclaimed the blond, burying his face in Zexion's neck. His voice seemed to crack the tiniest bit. "I was so scared, Zexy. I'm so happy you're awake! Zexy..."

Right arm pressed just a bit too uncomfortably against Demyx and shoulder screaming, Zexion squrimed as best as he could. "Alright, alright, Demyx Watera, please don't forget I am injured!" he rasped out, letting out a breath when he was promptly released.

"S-sorry!" said the swimmer in a hurry. "Aah, and to think I wanted to do this more manly-like, you know?" He backed off slightly, knees on either side of Zexion's thighs, though he didn't sit himself down, thank goodness.

Only when the teen took notice of the embarassed expression on that handsome face did Zexion realize that Demyx's hair wasn't styled up in the usual manner. Strands of dark gold tickled the sides of his cheeks, the rest of his locks in a spiky sort of ponytail. It was the first time Zexion had seen him in anything but that stupid hairstyle, all done up, making him even more tall than he was. A hairstyle that proved he was the typical expressive teenager that went home to a messy room and belted out music from his stereo as he sang along with all his might.

And as much as all that was truly applicable to the swimmer, it was also _not all there was to him_. How much had be learned about Demyx these two months? Certainly more than he ever learned about anyone. Even himself.

Noticing Zexion's bewildered stare, Demyx laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess we both changed our look a bit, huh?"

"Oh," Zexion touched over his face, covering it. "Right." Slowly, he set his hand back down, but another replaced where it had touched. Demyx's finger brushed off his tear, just like that day. Zexion had forgotten he had been about to cry. Demyx was freely laughing through his tears.

"Zexy...," he said, eyes sweeping over him in sadness. Finally, he rolled off the bed, but then laid to the right of the slate-haired teen, wriggling himself in to make room. Zexion scowled and moved away. Demyx noticed and wiped his eyes dry, chuckling. "Feels like old times."

"I have no idea what you're alluding to," Zexion said, pressing his head down in the pillows.

Demyx's grin grew. "I missed how you talk," he admitted with unbridled happiness. Aquamarine eyes glistened. "I missed you so much. I...I wanted to apologize..."

A frown knitted Zexion's brows together. Still, he only gazed at the walls, hardly believing who was laying so closely to him. After all, the last time they had spoken to each other, it was more or less a final goodbye. Yet here they were in the same bed, looking so different and talking as if nothing had happened. It was strange. "What cause have you to apologize?"

"Lots of things," replied the blond simply. The sheets rustled as he shrugged. "At first, I was gonna say I'm sorry for not stopping you. I felt like it was my fault. Like...maybe if I had done _that _after all instead of...just chickening out..."

Not having any idea what Demyx was going on about, Zexion settled for saying, "You couldn't possibly possess the foresight to know this would happen. _I _didn't even think I'd go after Fuujin."

"Yeah, I kind of realized that," Demyx said honestly, voice light. He laughed softly, but his voice was lower when he spoke again. "And then...you never really did forgive me for what I did on Halloween. As I was driving you to the hospital, I kept thinking, _Fuck. Shit. Zexy might die and the last thing I would've done is yell at him. He doesn't even fully know why I did that, why I did any of it from the beginning_." There was a half-beat of silence and Demyx shifted closer to him, gripping the slate-haired teen's sleeve tightly. "So really, I'm apologizing for being selfish. I wanted you to...live for my own selfish reasons. I'm sorry."

No. No, he shouldn't have to say that. Wrong. This was wrong. All of it set Zexion on edge and he uncomfortably looked away from the wall and towards the window. _Stop_, he thought. _Please just stop. If you have to be the one to apologize, then how wrong are the things _I _have done_?

"Zexy?"

The cut on his forehead seemed to hurt more.

"Zexy, are you alright?"

"You don't need to say all that," he finally said, taking a deep breath. When he let it out, he felt a bit more relaxed, although his heart was pounding hard in his chest. "Really, you shouldn't have worried so much."

The blond sat up, trying to catch Zexion's gaze but failing. "Do you remember anything that happened?" he asked curiously.

Now that Demyx was sitting up, the slate-haired teen quickly snapped his eyes away from the window. "To be honest, I wanted to know the same thing. I blacked out when I got hit," Zexion said simply, even though the memory made his skin prickle with gooseflesh. "Fuujin said whoever was driving kept going, but that's about the extent of my knowledge. Although...you just said you were the one to bring me here?"

Demyx nodded, offering a sad smile. "Yeah. I was going back after you, y'see, and saw you get hit. God, wish I hadn't..." His eyes closed, brow furrowed as if he were trying to block out the memory right then. Before either of them could get too uncomfortable from the recollection, the swimmer hastily went on. "So then I got your sister's friends to help me get you to my car. I know, I know, I should've called the ambulance, but I couldn't wait for that. When I got here, my dad had a stretcher waiting for you. Then the rest was just getting you well again. I tried to visit before this, but..."

Numbness made Zexion's expression feel dead and frozen. He was listening to the story, but it felt like something that happened to another person. Who got hit by a car twice? He'd been right to fear crossing the street. How had he even _forgotten _his fear when Fuu ran in the middle of a busy street? His fingers slowly curled around the sheets.

"Is it...frightening to see that someone is going away from you?" the teen asked, a panicked look on his face. Gradually, he worked up the courage to face Demyx, hoping that he wasn't speaking gibberish or seeming deranged.

He should've remembered how accepting Demyx was. The answer he got started with an incredulous grin. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "It's terrifying. How do you think I felt when you walked away from me? Or when I saw you get hit? The idea of someone you care about leaving is always going to be scary."

"So would it be an appropriate response to fervently protest the leaving of said someone?"

It didn't take long for Demyx to consider this. Thoughtfully, he said, "I'm not sure if appropriate is the right word. Really, it's impulse. Maybe that someone had a good reason for leaving. But it's always going to hurt. You'll always wish they wouldn't go."

Slowly, Zexion nodded. He was beginning to understand, at least a little. "And that's what you thought about me." It wasn't a question.

He managed to catch Demyx biting his lip, embarrassment on his face. "I don't want to think about living without being with you. Not anymore," came the confession, oceanic eyes peering at him with unbridled emotion. Was that affection? Was it...love?

Zexion's lip felt like it was going to tremble, so he took a deep breath, ignoring the fact his vision was blurry again. He swallowed down a gulp, and his cheeks felt too hot from a stinging blush. Why did Demyx say these things? Even then too, hadn't he blurted out, "_You mean everything to me_"? Surely even Demyx knew that...such words were only spoken to someone who was loved. Of course, this was only an inference - no one spoke to him like the blond did. _And I hope he doesn't speak to anyone else like this_.

So it was true then. Even after being hurt so badly on Halloween, he still loved Demyx. Surprise and something like frustration bubbled in his stomach.

At first, Zexion denied his feelings because he shouldn't be able to experience something like love. Not that he was emotionless; it was more like...no one should be able to attract him. No one attracted him before. What would love offer him, anyway? Had he not survived perfectly fine without it so far?

But as the weeks went on, the center of denial turned to _I'm not fit for him_. Zexion accepted his feelings but...sincerely did not expect them to be returned. In fact, he expected them to be hotly rejected should Demyx ever become aware of them. Someone like Zexion never ended up with someone like Demyx. A bookworm sociopath and a chipper jock never mixed.

And for what? For Zexion being who he was, for thinking differently from others.

Light-blue eyes traversed over to where the blond sat patiently. He seemed a bit unsure now, but was continuing to give Zexion a rather fond look. Ah, his stomach was turning over uneasily. Why Demyx insisted in giving him such attention was beyond him.

"May...may I tell you something?" the slate-haired teen inquired softly. Luckily, the room was empty and quiet enough that he could still be heard.

"Duh, of course!"

Zexion gave him a critical look. "It's...it's very personal. I've never told anyone else about it," he insisted, insecurity clear in his tone. "Not even Lexaeus. So...you'd be the first."

Now Demyx's eager expression softened some. "I won't judge you," he promised, making himself comfortable on the bed. Really, he should be getting off in case a nurse or - perish the thought - one of their fathers came through the door, yet there wasn't a single concern on the blond's face. To him, it seemed as though there were only the two of them, and they had forever to talk.

So odd how everything seemed normal, yet it most certainly was not so.

When he was given a rather expectant expression, Zexion cleared his throat. "Th-that is, you'd be the only person other than my old therapist to know."

Demyx blinked in surprise. "Huh," he said, neither stopping Zexion or prompting him further. "Well, if you're looking for advice here, I don't know how much help I can be. But I _will _listen to you, okay? I will listen to everything you have to say."

Zexion smiled. It was a very small one, and it was tinged with fear, but it was there. Suddenly Demyx was looking beyond him, eyes wide. Quickly, he got off the bed, clearing his throat. The slate-haired teen turned to see what had made him jump up - oh, had one of their fathers come after all...?

Neither parent appeared through the doorway. Instead, it was the same nurse that had been by his side when he first woke up. Her light-brown, nearly blond, hair was slightly more unkempt than when he first saw her, but she still had that gentle presence about her. Slowly, she shifted her gaze from both boys and heat filled Zexion's cheeks. Oh dear knowledge. He could only imagine what must be going through her mind - two teenaged boys...being so close together on a single bed... Surely that wasn't normal.

Then she smiled, no judgment whatsoever in her expression. "Excuse me. Zexion Anderson, am I correct?" When the slate-haired nodded numbly, she approached, a small bag in her hand. "Hi, I'm Ashe, short for Ashelia." She extended her free hand, looking at the teen expectantly.

"Good afternoon?" he said, taking her hand. Oh, he hadn't meant for that to sound like a question. "Are you a nurse?"

"Hmm?" Ashe looked surprised. "Oh, no, I'm not. Though I suppose the coat makes it seem like it. I'm sorry, I just like wearing it. In actuality, I'm your therapist."

Zexion looked over at Demyx, who was mirroring his shock. Hadn't they just been talking about his old therapist? Oh boy. It was going to happen all over again. And Demyx would be here to witness every discomfort.

"I..."

"My apologies for walking in on you when you barely woke up. I actually wasn't supposed to be here until you were making good recovery. Although after reading your file, I couldn't resist a visit." She made a small bow then, something Zexion had never seen anyone do before. "Please forgive me for that."

"That's fine," he said quickly, uncomfortable. She seemed so confident and was brimming with self-assurance that it was odd to see her resign to such formalities. "But, um... File?"

Ashe's light eyes glanced over at Demyx. The blond jumped, embarrassed to suddenly be in the spotlight. But even with that cue to leave, Demyx went over to Zexion, looking at him unsurely. Without even thinking, the slate-haired teen leapt at the chance to not be left alone and grabbed the swimmer's sleeve. He stared only at Ashe though, not wanting to see Demyx's reaction.

"May he stay? He's my friend and this isn't an official session or anything of the sort, correct?"

Ashe shifted from one foot to the other, still looking like she'd rather have Demyx leave. But after a few seconds of consideration, she nodded. "Alright. Really, I just wanted to stop by and see if we could introduce ourselves." She looked at Demyx and offered a small smile. "Ashelia."

"Demyx Watera," the blond said easily, reaching over the bed to shake her hand.

Recognition gleamed in Ashe's eyes. "Ah, your father is the doctor?"

"Yeah," said Demyx proudly. He hadn't ripped himself away from Zexion's grip yet, and in turn the teen hadn't let his hand fall away either.

"I hope you don't mind," Ashe began, "because it seems as though me being around is news to you. Has your father or uncle not informed you?"

Why should they? He hoped Auron would tell him if he knew. But as for his father... "I haven't spoken to my father since coming here. Well, I have... But it was just a few sentences." If she was going to be his therapist, she might as well know how little he communicated with his parent. And why not? She'd just spout some generic nonsense as advice.

Rather than the fake concern he expected, Ashe only nodded, as if she understood. "That's fine. So long as you know I'm here now." She walked over and sat on the chair near the window, placing her bag on the floor right at her feet. Her movements were graceful and quick at the same time. Somehow, Zexion was already becoming curious about her. She didn't seem like a therapist. Honestly, she had hardly seemed like a nurse back when he thought her to be one.

"I just received some background information on you from your previous therapist." She glanced up at him, her eyes calm but serious. It was a strangely pretty look. "You'll tell me if anything I say makes either of you uncomfortable, right?"

"I'm just here because Zexy wants me," Demyx declared, holding his hands up innocently.

_Yes, I do_. "It doesn't matter to me."

Ashe nodded and began talking, really just going over what she had learned from his background.

Actually, yes. It mattered. It mattered big time. This was the last thing Zexion wanted. He thought when his father pulled him and Fuu out of therapy the first time, it would all be over. Finally, he could stop talking about the past, talking about the feelings in him that just made him feel heavy and tainted. He didn't want to come back to them. Perhaps it had been unwise to let Demyx stay here...

"Your parents are divorced and you stay with your father... If I may ask, do you still keep in contact with your mother?"

Zexion tensed immediately, gripping Demyx sleeve tighter, so tight that he felt his nails dig into his palm. "I thought this wasn't a real session," he said in a panic, throat dry.

"It's not," Ashe agreed with a small nod. And just like that, she moved on. Zexion expected her to at least take a note of his reaction in some notebook or for her to look at him funny, but neither happened. Instead, she asked with a small laugh, "How did you two meet?"

"Eh?" Demyx looked around as if she meant someone else.

Zexion couldn't blame him. He felt just as confused. Still, he thought there couldn't be any harm in answering... "Um, I became his tutor at the beginning of the school year. But that's really...all there is."

A slender brow was raised as Ashe stared at him. "You just called him your friend."

All of a sudden he realized he was still holding on to Demyx's sleeve. Quickly, he took his hand back as if the blond were poison, and widened his eyes. "I didn't." Which was a really pathetic thing to say because the slate-haired teen knew full and well he had.

Ashe didn't press the issue, but stood up, glancing at her watch. "We'll leave it at that. I'll talk it over with your father, but how does next week sound for a starting session?"

Zexion nodded wordlessly and Ashe smiled, gathering her bag. "Good then. You two have a good day. Oh, and happy early birthday, Zexion." She waved and then closed the door behind her as she left.

Really, he should've seen it coming when Demyx immediately rounded on him.

Within seconds, the blond was back on the bed, except this time Zexion was staring up into oceanic eyes as Demyx got hands-and-knees above him. It was difficult for him to suppress a gasp as tan hands supported themselves on either side of his head.

"What-?"

"You _did _call me your friend. I heard you," the swimmer said, voice sweeter than anything Zexion knew. He was so close that the slate-haired teen could feel that low voice vibrate in his chest, could see the bobbing of Demyx's Adam's apple as he gulped. "And you held me so tightly. You...really didn't want me to leave."

"I just didn't desire to be alone. It's not an unbelievable concept," defended Zexion weakly, voice a bit higher than he meant it to be. Oh... Oh Demyx was so close that strands of golden hair brushed against his forehead. Zexion's heart was pounding much too fast. This was completely wrong, right?

_Someone like me can't be with someone like him_.

And Zexion was sick of being jerked around by the blond's eager, friendly personality. "Get off me, don't you have any idea of how we must look?" he said almost desperately. Why couldn't Demyx just understand?

"Don't you have any idea that _I don't care_?" returned the swimmer defiantly, with a sort of conviction Zexion hardly heard from him. Seeming to forget yet again about the teen's arm, he embraced Zexion, pressing his face into the small chest.

"D-Demyx Watera?" he exclaimed in shock. He twitched, trying to push him away...

"I love you," sighed the swimmer into his chest. "That was the first time you said that I was your friend. Thank you. So much. I love you, Zexy."

Zexion's heart stopped. That couldn't be right at all. It had to be something Demyx was just saying without knowing the gravity of it. Really, he wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. It didn't stop his chest from feeling tight, though. "What are you-?"

"I've loved you since summer. I don't know what it was, since I've seen you at school for years. Maybe it was just the right time to fall in love with you."

"You have n-no idea what you're saying." Sooner or later the blond would realize what was being said and he'd stop. He'd probably even regret it, tell Zexion to forget it even happened.

Except Demyx _kept going_. "I love you. I love you so much. Please let me be with you..."

"N-nonsense!"

A warm hand touched his cheek, caressing it gently. "I'm sorry, Zexy. It's probably horrible timing, and I wanted to make everything perfect for you, but...I just can't hold it in anymore. You make it so hard."

Perfect? For him? What was Demyx going to do? Zexion sank a little lower into the bed, breath growing heavy between his parted lips. Heat in his cheeks made tears form in his eyes. Oh no... Oh no... "Don't," he whispered in a barely audible voice. Even though he wanted it so bad. Wanted Demyx.

Beautiful aquamarine eyes were closing, that handsome face drawing nearer...

Oh no. Oh no.

_I'm not meant for him. I'm all wrong. He'll only leave because he'll hate how I am_.

Zexion's heart pounded and his breath mixed with Demyx's. What would it be like? Would it be like what he read in books? Would it be as simple as he thought? Oh, this must be how Pip felt whenever he was so near the beautiful Estella, always tortured by who he could never have...!

Ill-suited. But would it be bad...for just this once...for him to stop listening what his head told him?

Their lips brushed shyly, then forcefully pressed together. Zexion lost all the air in his lungs; he must've forgotten how to breathe. He stared randomly at the undone tie around Demyx's neck when they pulled away. Demyx's face was a flushed pink color as he too seemed to be avoiding the slate-haired teen's gaze.

"That was..."

"Oh..."

"Sort of...bad, yes?"

Demyx rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, it could've been better..."

Bright-blue eyes gave the blond a critical look. "Haven't you been in relationships before? I've...never been kissed but to my understanding..."

"Y-yeah, they're supposed to be better. That was my bad. I got too excited."

There was a beat of silence in which both of their faces just seemed to be getting redder. Finally, Zexion lightly touched his tingling lips, feeling incredibly awkward. "You, um...could've warned me about your tongue..."

Demyx buried himself into Zexion's pillow and refused to move for about five straight minutes. In that time, Zexion hardly felt any of his injuries, even his aching arm. The only thing he could feel was his stinging blush, his throbbing heart. His head was filled with too many thoughts to make any of them out. Oh, and the sensation of vomiting up all his organs in a bloody mess was back again.

"D...Demyx Watera?"

Considering he was still face-planted in the pillow, the response was a muffled, "Mmph?"

"I... That is, did you not just... You said that you...loved me."

The blond turned his head, now just resting his cheek on the pillow. "I still do," he joked lightly, making a small chuckle.

"That's ridiculous," Zexion said in disbelief. He could feel his eyes were wide, staring at the swimmer and imploring him to see reason. "You couldn't possibly possess such...affections for me. That's wrong."

Slight hurt was obvious in Demyx's expression as he considered. "Why?" he asked softly. "Is it because we're both guys?"

Zexion shook your head. "I've already informed you that I don't view homosexuality as a problem," he replied honestly. And really, that had been the last thing on his mind. Even if either of them were a girl, his conflict would be the same.

Now Demyx looked fearful. He got up, tossing his legs over so that he was sitting at the edge of the bed. He was staring at Zexion head-on, strength burning in his eyes. "Oh, so it's that you don't return my feelings?"

What was he to say? Deny it? But Demyx was gazing at him so intensely, asking for nothing less than the truth, that Zexion's heart broke as he murmured, "Why are you inquiring about such a thing?"

"Because I have to know, too. I have to know that you feel the same, Zexy."

"Why?" he asked, just a shade away from begging. "Why do you have to know? Why do you need to have these feelings? I've never even felt this before." Tears were brimming his eyes, cascading down his cheeks as he shattered in front of Demyx yet again. "I've never experienced it. I hate it. The books I read make it seem so wonderful but it _hurts_. I'm always scared, always putting myself down, thinking of how I could never deserve you."

Another hand, so warm, brushed against his. "Stop that," said Demyx softly.

"But it's made me so pathetic! I was fine! I was perfectly fine before I fell in love with you!" cried Zexion, snatching his hand away. "I'm used to staying like this."

"Zexy, I know change scares you, but you're not alone," said the blond reassuringly, his voice soothing the ache in the slate-haired teen's chest. Not alone. Could he really take Demyx's word on that? "I'll love you no matter what. I mean, I'm still here, right? I'll be with you forever."

"The future is a variable in life, Demyx," Zexion pointed out miserably.

A light-hearted scoff left the swimmer's lips. "If you spend so much time bitching about the past and being scared of the future, what kind of present does that leave you?" he asked, crossing his arms and giving Zexion a meaningful look.

"You mean just live," the slate-haired teen concluded flatly, wiping his eyes.

Demyx shrugged. "Well yeah. Isn't that all we can do?"

"I don't know what I can do anymore," confessed Zexion, glancing down. Everything felt like it was slipping through his hands. Even though he was probably in one of the worst physical and mental pains of his life, he still hardly felt human. He brought his hand up slowly, turning it over and looking at the IV needle in him. Eventually the sound of the drip bag became one with the ticking clock on the wall in front of them.

At some point, Demyx got up, clearing his throat. "My dad's probably going to be by in a minute, but visiting hours are almost done for the day. So I'm just, um, going to head out." Even though he looked as though he wanted to avoid gazing at Zexion, those aquamarine eyes pinned him down. "I'll come by tomorrow, of course. Can't leave you here by yourself for your own birthday. I'll bring a few people over to come see you, make it a small party."

The laugh Demyx offered wasn't fake, and it made Zexion's heart swell in happiness. "Demyx," he called out before the door could be opened.

He turned. "What's up, Zexy?"

"Could...could we try again?" He made sure to steady his gaze onto the blond, not wanting him to think he was being irrational or not thinking straight. "That is, I'm referring to the kiss. You took my first one and it wasn't good. You owe me one."

Pink stained Demyx's cheeks and he let out an incredulous laugh, eyebrows raised. "R-really? You're not just saying that?" Even as he expressed his disbelief, Demyx was walking closer, lingering right beside him within seconds.

Zexion licked his lips, not knowing where exactly to place his eyes on Demyx. Just like before, his breath got heavier and his heart began to beat too fast.

This time, they didn't stop or pull away. A hand slowly threaded through his hair, and it felt like Zexion's chest was trying to meet Demyx's with each breath - his heart reaching out for the blond's. Their lips were in slow motion, moving against one another gently but forcefully at the same time. Demyx was giving him a chance to stop if he wanted, but also prompting him forward. And in the kiss, Zexion felt it. _He's been trying to move me forward_.

"I love you," murmured Demyx, capturing the slate-haired teen's lips fully again. Zexion smiled into the kiss.

And who knows, maybe he would move forward. If Demyx was right next to him...maybe he would.

* * *

**Ending A/N**: Lately I've been listening to a lot of Placebo whenever I'm writing this fanfiction. I wonder if it's apparent? I personally feel like they fit with the story, especially with songs like "Twenty Years," "Protect Me From What I Want," and "Every Me, Every You."

Truthfully, I'm wondering about the love confession-kiss scenes. I feel like it came suddenly, but at the same time, I think it was the right time to put it in. What is planned? Demyx really had been trying to wait, you know... He wanted to make it all romantic in how he'd confess to Zexion. Alas, when emotions overwhelm us... What am I even saying anymore, dear Lord... -facepalm-

Oh, and ever since I watched _Valentine's Day_, after the scene where Ashton Kutcher's character kisses his best friend, I thought - _yes, a first Zemyx kiss would go exactly like that_! -shot dead-

And finally, don't judge Ashe yet. She won't be the target of the previous discomfort Zexion has for therapists. She'll be likeable. (By the way, I feel like I offended some of you a few chapters back when Zexy and Demy were more-or-less hating on therapists. I know they're not bad. My apologies).

Reviews/critiques/questions would be nice... OTL


	17. Opinion: Memories Can Last Forever

**A/N:** I'm so sorry for how long it's been since I've updated -bows repeatedly- I've started my first year of college and I've had some personal issues come up as well - both of those together just spelled disaster and so I haven't had much time to update. The due date for this chapter kept being pushed back and I finally woke up and thought, "It's December. This is ridiculous!" Thus this new chapter.

This chapter was a doozy. After I wrote it all down, it came down to over 7,000 words, which I haven't written for this fanfic in awhile. So I do hope the length makes up for my absence -sweatdrop- It was a bit hard to write this because it's so close to the resolution (or maybe this is it), and so many things are tying together and are getting resolved. I tried my best to make it all pan out well! Please enjoy -bows-

_**Opinion: Memories Can Last Forever**_

Moving around in a wheelchair was harder than Zexion thought. He thought it'd be rather simple to propel himself forward, but as it was he had been stuck in place for about two minutes before Demyx had laughed and began to push him. Needless to say, Zexion's cheeks were burning with a deep blush as he sank a little into the wheelchair.

As Demyx pushed him out of his room, Zexion looked down and mumbled, "I could maneuver myself, you know. All it takes is some practice..."

"Maybe, but you were kind of failing back there, and I'd like to go outside sometime before the party," Demyx said, leaning down as he pushed them into the empty elevator. It was a lot more spacious than he thought and he found himself getting momentarily motion sick as they descended down the six levels to the courtyard.

Dr. Watera had come in earlier wanting to see how Zexion would do on the wheelchair. The slate-haired teen took one look at the chair and shook his head. After all, what would he need one for? It wasn't like he was planning to go anywhere, and he pointed out as much to Dr. Watera.

The blond-haired man smiled. "True, when you're discharged, you'd probably do better on crutches, but it all depends on how well the healing with your hip goes. As it is, you don't want to move around too much just yet, and besides," he nodded off to the window letting into the late morning sun, "it's a beautiful day outside."

Wanting him to go out simply because it was nice outside. Zexion let a smile slip, a deeply fond smile as he glanced outside, trying not to laugh. "Demyx would...say something like that, too," he remarked absently. By the time he realized he said it, he shook his head fervently, wondering what got into him. Trying to make his blush go away (by completely ignoring it), he looked back at Dr. Watera to refuse the wheelchair once more...

Only to see Demyx standing right beside his father with a pleased as punch smile. "Hiya, Zexy~," he greeted happily, positively beaming at him.

Instead of welcoming him, Zexion bristled, resisting the urge to shout out as the blond's father was standing right there. Countenance frozen between horror and frustration, he articulated, "What. Are. You. _Doing_. Here?"

"I came to visit you, of course! Last I checked, it was this special time of year called - ah, what was it? - your _birthday_?" pointed out Demyx sardonically, slinking into the room and plopping himself at the end of Zexion's bed. His hair was still unstyled, pulled back into a ponytail again.

How much would it hurt to beat the swimmer with his IV stand? "Last I checked, it was the middle of the week. You have school!" he exclaimed, gritting his teeth. "Am I tutoring you for naught?"

"I have a doctor's note," replied Demyx sweetly, glancing pointedly at his father.

"One day, son, alright? Just one," Dr. Watera insisted. He crossed his arms, sighing lightly as he looked over at Zexion. "He really insisted to be with you all today."

The slate-haired really wanted to hit Demyx with something. And maybe whack Dr. Watera as well. No respectable parent would just let their kid skip school just to spend time with another (Zexion blushed to think of this) friend. Then again, he supposed there was a lot of things the Wateras did that he just wasn't used to.

"Just because of my birthday?" Any other teenager might've found this all flattering and wonderful, but birthdays had never been a big thing with the Andersons in the first place. Zexion never celebrated them, so he didn't see the big deal in them.

Demyx opened his mouth, cheeks pink and eyes sparkling, but then he stopped himself and sat up a bit straighter. "Yes. Now get your butt in that wheelchair! You look like you haven't seen the sun in forever!" he exclaimed, jumping off the bed to get the wheelchair out of his father's hands.

Dr. Watera merely chuckled dryly and raised a hand to wave. "I'll leave you two to it then. Demyx, don't get too rowdy, alright?" he said, casting his son a light but meaningful look before walking out.

Zexion nearly gaped. He was just going to be left alone like this! What kind of weird carefree man was Dr. Watera? Such unprofessional decisions right before the patient! But Demyx didn't look like he was going anywhere anytime soon, which meant like it or not (as usual), the slate-haired teen was stuck with him. After another five minutes of Zexion trying to get Demyx to drop that wheelchair and go back to school, the blond then raised a challenging brow and leaned over Zexion, giving him a firm kiss on the lips.

Zexion liked to think he was above such manipulation.

He wasn't.

And he hated himself.

Greatly.

"Hey, Zexy," Demyx asked as the elevator doors opened and the blond wheeled him out, "can I ask you something? Oh here, take this." He plopped a sweater onto Zexion's lap, and the slate-haired teen automatically knew it to be Demyx's.

It was with a patient albeit fond sigh that Zexion put it on and said, "I believe I said it before, Demyx Watera, that _is _a question."

Demyx jerked the wheelchair forward in payback to scare Zexion. "Yeah, yeah, wise guy," he said, ruffling Zexion's hair. A nurse held open the door for them as the two went outside into the courtyard. A few other patients and visitors were scattered out, chatting and laughing softly.

As the cool air and sunlight hit them, Demyx said, "Yesterday there was something you were going to tell me. What was it?"

At first Zexion had no idea what he was talking about. He couldn't remember a time he willingly approached Demyx and told him there was something he wanted to tell him. It didn't even sound like something Zexion would do...

Then he remembered. Yes.

Demyx pressed just a little more as they walked down the pavement. "The thing no one but your old therapist knew. Don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I'm just wondering if you still wanted to talk about it."

"I remember," was all he replied.

A long pause was drawn out from Zexion in which he stopped really registering anything around him as he stared off into space. He did remember telling Demyx that he wanted to reveal everything, shed some dusty light upon the past he thought he accepted as past. _But that's not true at all. My past has always...been consuming my present_.

Zexion stilled, barely heaing Demyx calling out to him softly, tentatively. He blinked, inhaling as sharply as if he had been holding a breath - had he not been breathing? He glanced back, looking up at Demyx's face. The blond's countenance was creased with worry.

"I won't push you. We can just keep walking around. Talk about what you want to do for your birthday," he said with a smile. Aqua eyes gazed directly into Zexion's blue ones. More quietly, he added, "It must be hard."

Wordlessly and very slowly, Zexion nodded. "Mm," he grunted vaguely, glancing down.

Demyx nodded, putting on an optimistic smile. "Come on, let's-"

"I-!" Zexion began at the same time in an outburst. It was loud, sudden, startling himself as well as the blond who froze, eyes widened. Zexion struggled to string his words together. "M-my...my mother... I-I wasn't... I never..."

Hard. This was harder than he thought. For as many years as the feelings and memories had stayed inside him, swirling painfully, he could not now find words to bring them to the surface. Had he really thought about it all so little? His lips twisted in displeasure, frustrated with himself. He could already feel his cheeks heat up, but in what he didn't really know.

Demyx waited, then slowly led them over to a more secluded part of the courtyard underneath one tree. There was a bench under it that Demyx sat on, putting Zexion in front of him. He could feel those oceanic eyes on him the whole time, waiting still. "Yeah?" he prompted gently.

And Zexion was grateful. Grateful that Demyx's voice was so soft but gaze do direct. He needed this. His stomach was twisting in knots, worried about what would happen after he let it all out - how would he _feel _afterward?

Zexion shivered a little in the November chill, depsite the sweater Demyx had brought for him. It was comforting to wear the clothing that radiated Demyx's warmth, his presence...

"My mother...a few years ago, she left our family. Just left. To this day, some of her things are still stuffed in a closet. My father is still married to her, technically," he started. His words and voice sounded too plain to him, and he felt like the pain wouldn't be obvious, that'd Demyx would say he was stupid for holding this in for years. Zexion steeled himself, screwing his eyes closed, hanging his head slightly. "I'm-I'm sorry, I'm trying, really," he began to whisper.

There was still a small part of him reminding him what Demyx had done on Halloween. What if it happened again? What if Demyx just hurt him again? Maybe the blond didn't even realize how big a deal it was that Zexion was going to open up to him in the first place.

Demyx didn't say anything, didn't even move. If he were so bold, he'd venture to guess the blond wasn't even breathing. That was fine. That's how Zexion wanted it to be, and he found himself grateful once again. "Please don't think I'm stupid," he murmured almost inaudibly.

"I couldn't ever," muttered Demyx back, his voice also very low.

Zexion nodded, lips trembling slightly. "My mother always...had this certain ideal. A certain way for me and Fuujin to be." He stopped, not wanting to get too deeply into that. That person he was before irritated him to no end. There was a reason Zexion stopped being that person, one who was in no way "him," a person who made his skin crawl because it was that uncomfortable. "And for most of our life, we really were like that. It...could be because of what my mother was around all her life..."

"Zexy?" Demyx said quietly, in concern.

He shook his head, trying to get back into focus. "My mother had a horrible life when she was very young. Always watching. Always surrounded by those types of people. The type who were always sad, had a lot of...pain inside them - broken people, all so sad..." What was wrong with how he was talking? This didn't sound like him, this sounded like a child. When was the last time his words formed like this, into something...full?

_Coming out. "Zexion" from those years ago...is coming out. His words coming out of my lips, the words I never said out loud. Only written down. Always writing..._

"I learned later that she wished she could fix it. She wanted everyone to be happy. But she got it warped and mentally sick. And then I...I tried. I had tried to be her image of a happy person. I made friends with people I didn't really like, I talked to them. I played sports and laughed. I pretended...," he glanced up at Demyx, "that I liked girls. I pretended I cared. But then...I started...hating it." At this, he pointedly looked away.

"You weren't happy," came Demyx's voice, quiet and gentle. It was neither a comment or a question, and nor did it prompt Zexion forward or hold him back. Zexion didn't know how the heck Demyx did it, how he was able to say and do things that should frustrate him yet say and do them so correctly that Zexion could do nothing but agree.

"No, I wasn't," he confessed, feeling lighter. Dryly, he added, "Ironic, is it not? Well, Mother didn't like it. Fuujin wondered what I was doing, and I informed her that I wished not to do it anymore. I told her we didn't have to. So," he took a breath, shaking and trembling, "we didn't fake anything anymore. Of course Mother noticed when we got quieter, when we withdrew from others, when Fuujin became friends with people like Seifer, and when I stayed inside to read. Mother thought something was wrong and made us go to counselors. No one understood though, no one got why a child would go against their parent's wish for them to be happy. _We," _Zexion said with indignation,_ "_became the wrong ones."

An elderly woman strolling along with a walker, a nurse monitoring close by, approached. Only when they had passed and the two teenagers were left alone again did Zexion continue.

"We'd constantly get into fights with Mother. There were times when she would just snap and start yelling at us. She wanted us to change, to go back to the way we were. She didn't understand how we were unhappy, and if there was something wrong, she wanted to get rid of it immediately. But we never did. I told Fuujin... I told her..."

"_I'm not doing this anymore. You can remain there if you want. I have cleaned my hands of this."_

_I basically left my sister behind, not caring where she went. That's when everything really stopped, going backwards_...

_"I'm not dealing with any of it anymore! If you can't change, Zexion," _wide, cold eyes gazing down at him in impatience, "_then I'll change things _for _you!"_

_I...abhor change_.

Demyx looked up at him, eyes as large and beautiful as ever. Zexion realized he must've said it out loud. His breathing was even yet heavy, and with one deep breath he said, "I despise it. I didn't want that kind of change. I didn't want her to leave." His voice was cracking, his bottom lip trembling as tears pooled quickly in his eyes, faster than he thought as one fell down his cheek. Still, he kept that expression of a person trying to fight against the pain, still trying uselessly to keep it all at bay.

"I didn't want that kind of change," he said again as the wind picked up. Zexion shivered, goosebumps prickling his skin. Reflexively, he hugged himself, rubbing Demyx's jacket against his arms for warmth. One of Demyx's hands reached out and rubbed his safe shoulder before squeezing it. The blond's grip was strong, warm, and solid, and his eyes were glancing down, long lashes fluttering over the oceanic orbs.

Zexion felt tired, and couldn't even summon the strength to shrug off Demyx's hold. He really didn't want to, anyway. For a long time, he was silent, just sniffing and trying not to choke on his sobs. In his mind, the rest of the sequence of events played out - the fights, the crying, the leaving... He knew it all, his mind played the pictures in rapid succession... Yet no words were forming on his tongue to explain it all.

"It's fine," Zexion finally said. It was past now. And no matter how much Zexion tried to forget it all, it was past. That, of all things, was fact.

Demyx looked at him in question, and the slate-haired teen could practically hear the blond's refute in his mind, but he shook his head slowly, giving a helpless, tired smile. He reached out to grip Demyx's sleeves, and leaned to place his forehead against the blond's shoulder.

"It's fine."

* * *

Zexion was unsure as to what one was supposed to do in this kind of situation. On the one hand, he understood that it was expected to comfort another when they displayed distress. He could more-or-less deal with that - or at least he was surrounded by those kinds of people so he was steadily getting used to it.

Although it was pretty much understood he lacked the social stamina to deal with more than one distressed person.

"Zexioooooon, I was sooooo worried about yooooou!" cried Quistis, her glasses going askew as she rubbed her face against his chest. Behind her was Roxanne, who was fidgeting horribly and fiddling with the buttons of her sweater, mumbling things incoherently, but obviously stuttering. More than once she seemed on the verge of tears. Standing off in the corner watching the scene were Demyx, Axle Embers, Lexaeus, and a girl Zexion had never seen before were offering offering sympathetic smiles.

The seven of them were huddled inside the birthday-decorated room that Quistis and Roxanne had taken the liberty of surprising Zexion with when he came back from the courtyard with Demyx. Needless to say, he had been all but raging when he realized the whole lot of them had skipped school, to which all Demyx could say with a laugh was, "Wow, for once I was the one with a legit leave of absence."

Plastic balloons were tethered together at the foot of his bed and streamers had been put all over the room. On the whiteboard right below the television was his name and "Happy Birthday" written in large block letters, surrounded by hearts and smiley-faces that were no doubt the doing of Quistis.

Speaking of her...

"Does it remain unseen to you all that I am _injured_?" he exclaimed in a breathless huff because of how much Quistis was beginning to squeeze the life out of him.

She wailed, giving one last squeeze before forcing herself away - with great effort, it seemed. Roxanne flushed and looked down, looking very much like she wanted to fling herself onto Zexion next.

"A-are y-you okay?" Roxanne sputtered with teary eyes. Then she let out a squeak, shaking her head fervently. "W-well, n-no of course y-you're not! Y-you were...w-were h-h-hit b-by a...by a..."

Axle let out a breathless chuckle and reached out for the blond. "Hey, Roxy-" She was interrupted by Roxanne breaking out in tears and sobbing.

More and more by the second, Zexion was feeling uncomfortable. He could deal with flustered Roxanne. He could even deal with stuttering mess Roxanne. He could NOT, however, deal with a sobbing and grossly crying Roxanne. His hand twitched, thinking to reach out to her. "U-um, there, there," he tried lamely, shifting uncomfortably. "Roxanne, I will be fine, alright? You don't have to cry."

"Yeah, it'll take a lot more than that to kill this thick-head," Demyx added with laugh, earning a narrowed glare from Zexion. "Come on, guys, this is supposed to be a _party_. Let's make it good for Zexy, yeah?"

Sniffing and wipping her eyes over her sleeves, Roxanne hiccuped, "S-s-sorry, Zexion. I-I re-really am h-happy you're oh...ohk...okay!"

"Y-yes..." Zexion couldn't help the awkward smile that tugged at his lips. "Thank you, Roxanne."

"That really is a horrible thing to go through," piped the girl Zexion hadn't seen before. She had short blond hair like Roxanne, with pale blue eyes that were looking at him softly and without judgment - a very gentle look and she was easily the shortest of the other teens.

He knew her name to be Rhyme. Zexion had nearly frozen on the spot when Lexaeus had introduced her as his girlfriend of five months.

"It's the reason Lexy hasn't been hanging out with us lately," explained Demyx quietly to Zexion while everyone else had been trying to get situated. "I'd...ask how you wouldn't know, but Lexy told me he never told you in the first place... But still..."

_Isn't that the kind of thing friends should tell each other_? Zexion knew the ending to that sentence. And for a moment he was shocked Lexaeus wouldn't tell him about Rhyme. Then again, the slate-haired teen really hadn't given Lexaeus the impression that he would've _cared _about that.

_I was never about emotion, love, or affections. For the past years that Lexaeus has known me, I don't believe I've ever indicated we were even friends. Still, he was always around me, always with me, keeping me company_... Zexion quickly blinked away the guilty tears before they pooled too much in his eyes.

Jumping up and slamming her hands onto the bed, Quistis declared, "Cake! We should get out the cake now so Zexion can open his presents!"

The smile that had been continuing to form on his lips froze and fell at what the blond-haired girl said. Frowning, he repeated, "Cake? Presents? You mean the line wasn't drawn at decorations?"

Axle laughed. "Ohh boy, you really need to get in the spirit of birthdays," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

"That is-"

Demyx plopped himself on the bed, presenting to Zexion two small bouquets of flowers. "Here, this ought to cheer you up," he lilted, practically burying the slate-haired teen's face in the blooms. "My mom can't come by because of her lessons, but she wanted to send these to you. Yu-yu and Tidus would've wanted to come, but these flowers are from them. They've all been worried about you, man."

Zexion turned his head to sneeze. "Th-that's, um..."

"Hey now, don't you kids think you're overwhelming him all at once?" came a deep chuckle near the door. Auron was standing in the doorframe, and Zexion blinked in surprise when he saw Fuu there as well - although with her it was more that she was _here _rather than being shocked that she skipped school.

"Uncle Auron," Zexion murmured. "Well, at least one person here has some sense."

His uncle stepped in, Fuu keeping her distance tentatively behind him. "Actually," Auron said, producing a small, wrapped object from behind his back, "I just came to drop this off before I had to head to work today. I'm sorry I can't stay longer, but I wanted to come by long enough to wish my nephew a happy birthday."

A blush, deep and burning, streaked over Zexion's cheeks as Auron tousled his hair, placing the wrapped package onto the slate-haired teen's lap. His lips opened and closed, certian jumbles of words coming out in a little more than a choke, and everyone laughed.

"Hey, gaping like a fish there, you know?" Quistis giggled, looking a little more herself now.

Even Auron chuckled, looking away from Zexion to glance at each of the other teenagers in the room at turn. When he looked back at his nephew, he gave him an approving, proud smile. Beneath those sunglasses he was in the habit of wearing, Zexion could swear he saw those dark eyes gleaming lightly. "It would seem your story has developed well," he murmured quiet enough that only Zexion could hear it.

"They...came of their own accord," the slate-haired teen tried to brush off nonchalantly, but only sounding feeble and embarrassed. To avoid Auron's playful laugh, he ran his fingers over the wrappings of the present his uncle had given him.

"...You realize you need a lot more practice with wrapping?" Zexion said with a small smile, shaking his head. "I'm quite certain a good seventy-five percent of this is tape."

At that, Auron crossed his arms, not seeming at all offended by the comment. "You have many more birthdays to come," he pointed out with a raised brow. With a nod to everyone, he turned to leave the room.

Fuu had been standing in the background the whole time. While everyone else went about their own conversations again, and Demyx pointedly went over to glomp the small Rhyme out of nowhere, Zexion looked over at his sister. He'd never seen her shy away before, especially with the person she was known as now. What respectable member of Seifer's gang hid over in a corner, begging not to be noticed?

Then again, Zexion didn't know everything about the trio of his sister and her two friends.

Finally, Fuu stepped in, her sneakers squeaking against the clean floor of the hospital. She went automatically to Zexion's side, not even casting the others a glance, her red eyes mostly hidden by her hair. Zexion began to wonder if that's what he had always looked like.

"Skipped school," she mumbled, fidgeting.

"Well, all of them did as well," Zexion said, if anything for conversation's sake. He could tell speaking was harder with others around. They had always been the kind of siblings who were better on their own. Looks like that hadn't changed - but Zexion didn't consider it a completely bad thing.

Picking at the zipper of her jacket, she added, "To see you for...your birthday and all. That boyfriend of yours told me and Uncle about it."

"Demyx Watera is hardly my boyfriend," Zexion snapped under his breath.

Now Fuu looked at him, raising a disbelieving brow. "I won't call you a faggot or nancy boy if you're worried about that," she laughed softly. Then she stopped short, and before Zexion could say anything, she asked, "That Roxanne girl is here, isn't she?"

Now Zexion blinked in slight surprise. Well, the two girls were in the same grade, so he shouldn't be too shocked about it, but still... "She is. I didn't know you knew her."

"Know her? Dude, remember when the rumors started she was a lesbian?" She sighed abashedly. "I'm the one that started that."

Zexion paused, glancing over at Roxanne. He expected her to be talking with the others, but she was sitting quietly in a chair, just watching the others. Once, her azure gaze shifted over to the two siblings. It was tentative and small, but she offered a smile to Fuu, who Zexion was surprised to shy away from the gesture, albeit a pleased grin on his sister's face as well.

"Do you two...have a relationship I've yet to know about?" he inquired slowly and in slight confusion.

Fuu's cheeks filled with pink and she shook her head. "Absolutely not!" she exclaimed, looking like she wanted nothing more than to sock at least one punch to him. She huffed, crossing her arms. "We just...we just talked recently, alright? I... She... I apologized to her. And she...told me some interesting things." With each word, Fuu's expression softened more and more.

Zexion stared at his younger sister, unsure what the feeling in his chest was. If he had to name it, he supposed...he would call it pride. He was proud of Fuu. And although he was unsure if he had ever felt this way before, he was certain that at this moment, he was glad that he wasn't the only one...who was done with moving backwards.

"Fuujin?"

"What is it?"

"Your court date... It's coming up, isn't it?" he asked softly, giving his full attention to her.

Through her locks of hair, her red eyes widened. Just as quickly, she turned away. "We don't gotta talk about this on your birthday, Zexion. That's depressing, don't you think?" she evaded, changing her expression to something more nonchalant.

"Yes, but nevertheless, I am..." Worried? Sad? Still it was so hard for him to name his emotions, and finally he settled with saying, "I don't want you to go through it."

At this, he was surprised to see his sister smile. It wasn't bitter or false. "And you think I want to? But we gotta pay for our mistakes, right? I fucked up, Zexion, I can't do anything about it. If possible, I want...to try to use the time away to talk to Seifer and Rai 'bout a few things. That guy we beat the shit out of...the hospital he went to is this one. Another floor and I'm not allowed near him, even though I... Well, I'd try to apologize, like with Roxanne," she admitted, looking at him in search for approval.

Zexion nodded, impressed. It felt like both of them had been wanting a do-over for a long time. To break off from their mother's ideal, they tried to become people who could be happy on their own terms. It led to years of being a broken family, of fighting, of silence, of a very cold home.

_But in the end_, he thought, closing his eyes and smiling as his sister's hand brushed against his, _we did become happy, right_?

_I...would like to believe this is my fact. My truth_.

"Guys, got the cake ready!" sang Quistis, plopping a circular cake onto Zexion's lap, who jumped in surprise. "We should hurry and do the candles before any doctors come in here about fire hazards."

Demyx reached over and swiped a bit of white frosting with his finger, tapping the tip of Zexion's nose with it. "Roxy made it herself, you know. Her and Olette have been baking a lot recently."

"I-I j-just hope you like it!" exclaimed Roxanne in worry as Quistis got out a box of candles. "If y-you don't, that's f-f-fine!"

"Oh? You bake?" piped Rhyme in interest. "Me and Lexaeus have been experimenting, but between him and my brother, things get to be quite a mess." She giggled at the dark pink that spread over the auburn-haired boy's cheeks.

"Hey, Fuujin, wanna help me spread the candles out for your brother?" asked Quistis, thrusting half of the candles to the slate-haired girl, who fumbled for them.

Laughing, Demyx said, "Wow, eighteen years old. You're such a geezer, Zexy!"

Scowling and wiping the frosting from his nose, he snapped, "As I recall, you're _nineteen_, Demyx Watera."

"Ah, crap, I don't got any matches!"

Axle tossed something shiny to Quistis. "Got you covered."

Demyx flushed. "I-I flunked second grade, is that so bad?"

"Axle wh-what are you doing with a _lighter_!?" Roxanne exclaimed incredulously.

Scoffing, Zexion retorted, "It only means you're an idiot, though this is something I've known for months now..."

"Relax, I don't smoke, Roxy."

"Here, Fuujin, light that end, pretty please~!"

"Think you're a wise guy, eh? Take this!"

"Demyx, I don't think the icing is supposed to be put on people..."

"Why not? You and Beat got practically none of the icing on the cake we made, heehee."

"Rhyme-"

"Kyaa, D-Demyx, w-watch it!"

"Zexion, you hang out with weird people..."

"S-so I've been trying to say-!"

"Shut up, birthday boy, and let us bless you with our godly singing!"

_...Yes._

_I'm sure...that I am happy now.._.

* * *

Crumpling up the last of the wrapping paper, Demyx turned and made a shot into the trash bag hanging on the bed. The room was mostly clean again, but the streamers were left up circling over Zexion's bed and over the window. The flowers Demyx's mother and Yuna had given the slate-haired teen were now in vases sitting on the nightstand beside Zexion, and on the foot of his bed were the presents he'd been given.

Roxanne had given him a large bag of gummi worms, something they had fun putting all over the slices of cake and there was still a lot left over. Quistis' gift was something Zexion only had to peek into the bag to guess it was another horrorific costume and he promptly pushed it far away with a forced thanks. The slate-haired teen thought it no surprise when Auron had given him a Stephen King book and smiled fondly, vowing to begin reading it once everyone had left. Lexaeus and Rhyme had presented him headphones and a music player ("We heard Demyx has been giving you some good music lately~"). Axle decided to bestow him the gift of keeping the lighter and a promise to tell him every dirty secret she knew about Demyx (one of which she whispered in his ear and he wished never to hear again lest unholy thoughts bloom in his mind...). Even Fuu had awkwardly given him something - a long black jacket that came with black gloves.

There was only one person Zexion had even remotely suspected he would get a present from but didn't, and that was the person who plopped himself next to him, grinning.

"So in the end, I guess your father couldn't show up, huh?" Demyx said quietly, disappointed.

"Enjoying this day might've become significantly difficult had he been around," Zexion tried to justify. He wasn't very bothered by the fact that his father hadn't been at the party, but he supposed it was slightly...a letdown.

Demyx's grin turned more mischievous. "Oh? So you did enjoy yourself then?" he asked, raising a triumphant brow as he swung his arm around Zexion's shoulders.

"Do not fool yourself with such notions," deadpanned the slate-haired teen, albeit lightly.

"Is it so bad I want to see you smile once? Maybe hear that cute laugh of yours again?" prompted Demyx suggestively, their hips touching now.

Rolling his eyes, Zexion lightly pushed the blond away. "My laugh is not such a thing. And neither is my smile anything special, either. I've told you this," he reminded, even as his cheeks began to flush. Yours, on the other hand...

Demyx pouted slightly. "You can keep up that hard-to-get act allll you want, but I know your weakness, good sir," he threatened, cupping Zexion's face before lightly kissing him.

And oh, if it wasn't a completely _horrible _and _good _weakness. There were a lot of things Zexion hated, but Demyx's kisses were certainly not one of them. Still inexperienced, it took him a moment to react well enough to lightly press back, closing his eyes.

"If you're not just about the most incorrigible person I know," muttered Zexion under his breath when they parted slightly. His eyes were still closed, and a smile was tugging at the corners of his lips.

Demyx's breath was warm against his lips as he whispered back, "Funny how you make your mouth say one thing then have it do something else." He pulled back more, grinning as Zexion opened his eyes. "Here. I hope you didn't think I'd actually forget to get you something for your birthday." He reached under the hospital bed with one of his long arms, pulling up a rectangular object with him.

It was neatly wrapped, blue paper with a green bow stuck to the top of it. Demyx placed the present onto Zexion's lap and looked at him expectantly. "Alright, go ahead and open it."

Still stunned at the sight of the gift, Zexion mutely nodded and tentatively undid the wrappings, tearing it away.

"Come on, come on, while we're still young," lilted Demyx impatiently when Zexion appeared to move too slow.

When the last of the paper fell away onto the bed, Zexion was holding in his hands a book - or what he at first thought was a book. In the setting sunlight, he saw the blue-black cover had no title, but only small designs of music notes and swirling shadows around the spine of it. He studied it, frowning as he flipped through the empty pages.

"It's a journal," explained Demyx. His oceanic eyes were swimming with meaning. "I thought, maybe... All the things you wrote before were on loose sheets of paper and regular school notebooks, so I thought maybe..." He reached into the wrappings and pulled out a long, thin object that was shining silver. "It came with a pen too."

Zexion glanced at the gleaming light bouncing off the pen and then back to the leather-bound journal in his hands. He never had such a thing before, never really considered that he would need it because the writing was never anything...special. Except just to put down his feelings into words, to place them in coherent thoughts...

He opened it to the first page, and there on the inside cover was a small message written in blue-green ink, styled in a familiar messy scrawl:

"_Yo, Zexy! You really got something going there with the writing, I hope you know! You really are an amazing guy, and one day you're gonna light the world ablaze with your words. Keep the poems coming - just tell me if you ever write about some lesbians, okay? Haha, kidding (mostly). But really, happy birthday, man. Make all the memories you can. It'll be good for you. -Demyx"_

After another few seconds, Demyx seemed to take the silence as a bad thing. He placed the pen down, shrinking back slightly. "Unless... You don't like it? I-I mean I understand, what with what I did and you..." He reached out for the journal. "God, I'm sorry, Zexy, I offended you, didn't I? I'm sorry, I'll, uh, make a mix CD or something, but it's just I make those for everyone so I wanted to actually try something different with you, but, um... Guess I'm not-"

"You really do talk too much. It's annoying," Zexion interrupted, but his voice had no bite to it. It was quiet, and slowly, Zexion hugged the journal to himself with his good arm. He looked over at Demyx. "Thank you, Demyx Watera. I'll use it."

Immediately, Demyx's eyes began to shine happily as he grinned that wonderfully contagious grin. "You mean it? When you say use, you don't mean to hit me or something, right?"

"Oh, I mean to write in it," Zexion promised with a small smile. With a chuckle, he said, "And I'll hit you with it, if nothing else happens to be around. It does seem as though it'd leave quite the mark..."

Demyx hopped off the bed, holding his hands up. "Alright, Zexy, but no testing out right now!" he pleaded hastily, laughing nervously.

"Don't be silly, I wouldn't want your blood on it."

"Ouch! That bad, huh?" Demyx said with a dramatic cringe, hissing.

"No. But this is...a very good gift. I'm...glad it was from you," Zexion admitted, looking back down at the beautiful journal. Taking a deep breath, he murmured, "Thank you. For this day. For the past few weeks. It...it's been very hard...for a very long time, but..." He glanced up at Demyx hopefully, waiting.

Smile softening into something more tender, Demyx nodded, coming close again. "Yeah...," he whispered, their noses bumping gently, lips brushing then meeting once more. Zexion lifted his good arm, his hand caressing Demyx's cheek, losing himself in the moment.

The door clicked open, and a shuffle of shoes sounded in the room. Quickly, Demyx pulled away, but still hovered over Zexion as the two teens looked over to the entrance of the room. Zexion's father stepped inside, loosening his tie and looking unshaven. Zexion froze, feeling extremely out of place, still in the afterglow of the kiss with Demyx so near him...

"Good evening, sir!" Demyx chirped, straightening up.

Giving the blond a sort of critical look, Mr. Anderson asked in surprise, "Aren't visiting hours almost over? You're still here?"

"I was just cleaning up the remains of the party," Demyx explained awkwardly, laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Didn't want you or my dad to come in to see the mess we teenagers made."

Mr. Anderson nodded in understanding, taking off his coat and hanging it over one of the chairs. "That would make you Dr. Watera's son, then. Both of you are certainly concerned over the recovery of my son. Thank you."

Both teens lifted their heads a bit higher in surprise. Well, that certainly had been the last thing Zexion ever expected his father to say. He half-expected him to toss Demyx out on the spot, not casually make himself at home as if walking in to two teenagers was the normal thing to do. What was this? Zexion was so confused, he just...

"Say, Demyx?" called out the slate-haired teen. "You've got an English test tomorrow. You should go try to study for it. I know I've been hospitalized for a few days, but I'm confident we went over enough that you should manage well."

The blond gave Zexion a look like he was crazy, tilting his head as he frowned. "Are you sure?"

"You'll be fine," Zexion insisted tersely. He offered a half-smile. "I'll see you later."

Demyx hesitated a moment more, still giving the slate-haired teen a chance to take him back if he wanted to. But Zexion said nothing, and Mr. Anderson said nothing, so finally Demyx gave in, taking a deep sigh that he covered up as him stretching. "Alright then, Zexy, I'll go off then. I'll see to come by tomorrow - ah, actually after school this tiiiime!" he added at Zexion's narrow glare. The blond waved. "Good to see you, Mr. Anderson."

"And you," returned Zexion's father simply.

Zexion watched Demyx go, wishing that the blond could stay, that his father would leave... But there was too much that had to be said before anything else could move on.

Mr. Anderson was pacing around the room, glancing up at the streamers and balloons, the flowers and the wrappings from the journal gift. Zexion started then. He hadn't noticed it because Demyx had been around, bringing his scent of citrus and chlorine...but now something smoky pervaded the air. Cigarettes.

The pack that had been left behind all those times. The one Fuu scoffed at, because she knew. Something familiar yet foreign at the same time. The memory of his father, many years back when Zexion was still just a child, coming back inside after a long time to have this exact scent. Then again after Zexion's mother left.

The slate-haired teen thought his father had stopped smoking. Yet now...

_Father...do you see it all now, too_?

As if hearing the thought, Mr. Anderson's gaze finally focused onto Zexion's, and the two stared off at each other for a few seconds. Mr. Anderson stopped pacing, stopping right at the foot of Zexion's bed.

"We...should talk, Zexion," his father sad quietly, voice low as his eyes became downcast.

One sentence yet it carried so many meanings. Three words and a name yet all held the most emotion Zexion had heard from his father in too long. Much too long. A conversation long overdue. When was the last time they even had something as normal as that?

Sitting up straight, and chin held high, Zexion let out a breath.

"Yes. We should."

* * *

**Ending A/N**: A reviewer pointed out that I'm always saying, "It's close to the end!" when I really keep writing a lot -laughs- I apologize for that. But I mean it this time! Next chapter will be a sort of epilogue and well - that's it for _Hybrid Theory_! Gah, this fanfiction lasted quite awhile, I can't believe it -rolls around- Since it's the epilogue, it won't be very long, so I'm hoping to have it up quite soon, especially since my Winter Break is upon me -smiles-

By the way, most of y'all probably don't know this, but Fuu's deal with Roxanne is further explained in my other fic _Such a Pretty Face_ (which I'm quite sure I'll never touch again -shot- No, really, please don't read it yet, if I ever decide to revive it, I want to rewrite it allllllll -dies in a pit in writer Hell-)

At any rate, I do hope it all waved together nicely. I would've liked to add more Zemyx moments, but I'll make up for it in the epilogue -shot- And really, thank you all who kept reviewing even in my long absence. It makes me happy to see that this fic gets so much support -radiates anime sparkles- Reviews would mean the world to me!


	18. Hybrid Theory

**A/N: **Wow, it's here. I can't believe it's actually here. The last and final chapter for _Hybrid Theory_. All I can say is, I hope this ending can live up to the expectations its raked up. I tried my very best to do this properly. I even had scratched out four other ways I was going to let the chapter happen before I settled onto this. So I hope it all goes smoothly and that I'm still able to capture the right feel for this fic, especially after having worked on it for so long now.

It really shouldn't have taken me this long to update. I'm really sorry, haha. College is a lot harder this semester, haaah. But you know what, it kinda works out! This could've actually been out a day or two before, but I decided to be a cheesy arse and wait until the 12th that way _Hybrid Theory_ can end the same day it began four years ago! Whoooooo! Four years and it's finally done!

(Also, Happy Mother's Day to all!)

And so, for the last time, please enjoy -bows-

_**Hybrid Theory**_

Was it supposed to fit like this? Zexion was beginning to feel more like he was in some big black trash bag than some gown. He checked himself in the mirror, thinking he hadn't looked more ridiculous since Halloween - a graduation uniform was as much a costume as any, he figured. For a moment that seemed to stretch for silent hours, he examined and re-examined his reflection, trying to find out if the face staring back at him was familiar or not.

By this time, months had passed since the accident a few days before his birthday. He had eventually gone back to school and more-or-less easily made up the work and lessons he had missed, managing to keep his grades smoothed down. The schoolwork had been better to deal with than his body, anyway. His shoulder had taken awhile to completely heal, and it hadn't been easy to get around with his mending hip. Being able to stand and walk around for longer periods was a blessing, especially when he got tired of being stared at and asked over and over again what happened by strangers. Times like that, he was grateful when Demyx or Axle or Quistis happened to be nearby and they'd drive off the overly curious teenagers.

He blew at the bangs from his face before swiping them back to look at the scar covered by his now regrown hair. Scars were all that were left of the accident now, just new scars on his body. They were the kind of things everyone could notice and ask about. Letting his bangs fall back into place, Zexion let out a breath and took the cap that was sitting on the sink counter. At the same time, he heard several other boys suddenly enter the bathroom, all of them laughing and cheeks a dark pink with their caps falling askew over their heads.

Zexion recognized all three of them, and his eyes zeroed into one in particular when he asked dryly, "Where you running down the hallways? You do realize there's another graduation going on, don't you?"

The one boy Zexion was looking at laughed, leaning in heavily to one of his friends. "Hey, Zexy, it was Tidus' fault," Demyx said breathlessly, pointing to the blond in question. "He was teasing Yuna's friends again and Rikku started chasing him! Wakka and I just followed!"

"Me? Yeah right, I have more class than some people," Tidus protested, shoving Demyx away with a hard laugh.

As if right on cue, there was a loud banging on the other side of the bathroom door. "Ohhh! You think just because you can hide in your bathroom, you can stay there forever?" came a childish voice that Zexion knew to belong to Rikku. In the background were some giggles. "You'll have to come out _some_ time, I can wait!"

"Go away, pervert, we're indecent!" Wakka exclaimed, opening the door quick enough to say it before slamming it back closed, earning an appalled squeal from Rikku.

Zexion rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his cap, trying to brush back his bangs once more. Still looking in the mirror, he felt around with his other hand over the sink countertop but not brushing against what he had left there minutes earlier. Frowning, he leaned to feel over more when his fingers hit something warm. He turned, nearly getting stabbed in the eye with the barrette Demyx held in his hand.

"Looking for this, Mr. Salutatorian?" the blond asked cheerfully, replacing Zexion's hand over his bangs and pinning the barrette in place. Zexion had no time to protest before Demyx was sliding the cap over his head as well, smile as large and infectious as ever. "I still think you totally deserved the spot of valedictorian. You like the smartest person I know."

"It's not like I particularly care either way," replied Zexion with a small shrug. His father was happy with his graduation status anyway, and that's all that really mattered to him at the moment. At least his father wasn't disappointed by it, a fact Demyx had responded incredulously with when he told him. Well, anyway, being salutatorian was all well and good until the principal mentioned making one of the opening speeches...

"Look at you, all dappered up," said Demyx, interrupting his thoughts as he poked the slate-haired teen at the tip of the nose.

Huffing softly, Zexion shoved his hand aside. "You say that, but you're wearing jeans to this event," he pointed out dryly, eyes locking on the scuffed bottoms of Demyx's pants peeking out under the gown. He could've sworn last night on the phone he told Demyx to specifically _not_ do this. "Idiot, what if they don't let you walk because of this?"

"Aw, Zexy, don't be that way," groaned the blond. "That's their fault for being so anal about it; I've had to wear a uniform for over ten years, and now they're telling me to have one for my moment of triumph, too? _Buzz kill_."

Incredulously, Zexion exclaimed, "You're kidding around, right? Demyx, you cannot wear those pants!"

Considering, Demyx said after awhile with a grin, "So what I'm getting out of this is that you want me out of these pants, right?" He leaned towards Zexion, cupping his chin.

Before he could even begin to get worked up - and maybe on account of this being Demyx's usual antics - Zexion quickly raised his hand up to cover the blond's mouth then pushing him away. "Calm yourself with those innuendos," he stated with a roll of his eyes, glancing away just as the first signs of blushing stained his cheeks. He busied himself with adjusting his cap some more as Tidus laughed, apparently having witnessed the scene.

When another round of insults came from Rikku to occupy both Wakka and Tidus, Demyx perched himself on the sink's counter. "Well anyway, my mom is bringing up some slacks for me, if you _must_ know," he pointed out dramatically. Checking his cellphone, he said, "She should be here any minute now. Want to come wait with me out back?"

Satisfied when his cap stayed in place, Zexion glanced up and nodded. "However...," he began, glancing over to where Tidus and the others were laughing and shouting, "something will have to be done about _that_."

"On it!" lilted Demyx, leaping off the counter. Shoving Tidus and Wakka aside, he said, "Okay, truce, guys! I'm gonna open this door real slow like, alright? We'll even give up Tidus as sacrifice, if you want."

Tidus gazed at his friend in shock, sputtering. "Wh-what? You can't just-!"

"Deal!" came Rikku's eager reply. In the next second, Demyx swung the door open and flung Tidus into her waiting arms, gesturing for Zexion to come along. And really, being in a bathroom with crazy girls just right there, Zexion had little reason to want to argue, and promptly followed Demyx down the mostly empty hallway, ignoring Tidus curses and Wakka's laughing in the background.

If this is what they were like with school being over, Zexion really worried what would happen when their diplomas were given out and what they'd make their first act of freedom be. As they began to make their way to the back entrance of the large center, Demyx reached out and softly took Zexion's hand. The slate-haired teen nearly jumped out of his skin - it really did annoy him that Demyx could do this so casually and without a thought. Sometimes he wondered if Demyx even knew how much he had to prepare himself when merely sitting close to him.

"Isn't holding hands a bit...much?" he asked sheepishly, even as his fingers clutched around Demyx's.

The blond laughed and just squeezed Zexion's hand. "I see nothing wrong with it~"

Zexion made a humming sound, blushing softly. (He did have to admit though, he drew the line when Demyx began swinging their arms back and forth and that ended in Zexion stalking ahead with a red face and ignoring Demyx's half-hearted apologies of, "It was a joke!") Eventually they made it outside into the early June sun and were promptly greeted by a humid breeze. While the blond skipped ahead towards the parking lot, Zexion followed into the sunshine a bit more reluctantly, shielding his eyes. When he got to the sidewalk, Demyx stopped and Zexion watched him make a phone call. By the time the slate-haired teen caught up, Demyx had hung up and gave Zexion a smile.

"She said she'll be here in a sec, so it's just me and you until then," he said, tapping Zexion's nose. "What ever shall we do? Oh! How about giving me that kiss you denied me before?"

"First it was holding hands and now you want to kiss me?" scoffed Zexion lightly. Even so, he got to his tip-toes, pressing his hand over Demyx's chest as he reached up for their kiss. It made Zexion lose his breath as it always did, and he inhaled sharply at the feeling of his lips being gently parted for a small swipe of tongue before the two slowly parted. Cheeks flushed, Zexion murmured, "I don't understand why you like escalating these things."

Demyx raised his brows, used to the slate-haired teen's type of teasing by now. "I think after going out for seven months, I'm entitled these little shows of affection, you know. You should know by now how much of a _physical_ being I can be," he said with something of a mischievous chuckle. His arms were now around Zexion, and when they got there, he had no idea - by now, he didn't particularly...cough...mind.

"...I think your face accidentally landing on my groin proves that enough," Zexion recalled in a low, embarrassed voice. The devious grin he got made him realize he had been heard, and was in for something he certainly wouldn't like. He jumped when Demyx leaned in and whispered in his ear. Zexion's cheeks positively _burned_ as he sputtered, "Th-that was_ one time_, you stupid, _stupid_ water-clogged _idiot_!"

"I think it went better than our first kiss, if your reaction was anything to go by," concluded Demyx happily, standing straight again and rocking back and forth on his feet.

Argh, his face really hurt. He was having difficulty deciding if he wanted to bury himself or Demyx in a hole. Either way, it seemed like the blond was perfectly satisfied, so Zexion busily fussed over his hair and gown as they continued waiting. He certainly did hope Mrs. Watera would hurry in arriving. If he remembered Demyx's words right, his father had taken the day off from the hospital and was already somewhere inside the auditorium. Demyx and the others had taken Tidus' car to get there, and had of course offered to take Zexion - though if it wasn't for his uncle, he was quite sure he would've been kidnapped on the spot regardless of his answer.

"So is your sis going to be able to make it to make it?" Demyx asked conversationally.

Blush fading some, Zexion frowned a bit and thought. As of now, his sister was still in a juvenile institution with Seifer and Rai, and they would be until the end of August. Even with the long months that she was away, there was always at least one time every week in which the phone would ring in the Anderson house. The first few times had brought undeniable awkwardness and thick silences, points in which Zexion would answer the phone and he and his sister would exchange simple greetings before hanging up after extended pauses. After the first month, the conversations got longer, and a bit friendlier, and there were times when Fuu went over her allotted time and she'd have to abruptly leave. Sometimes Zexion wouldn't be home, and he'd arrive through the front door to see his father there, trying expression on his face as he made small talk with his daughter.

Even that got better after a few more weeks.

Zexion managed not to dampen his mood at the sadness of his sister's absence, instead only twisting his lips in a half-smile. "No, she won't," he answered simply, stepping down to sit on the sidewalk's ledge.

Demyx made a humming sound and joined him. "What about your dad?" he asked, a bit more quietly this time. "You two are on speaking terms, right?"

"We are," Zexion replied. It was a bit of surprise to hear it, but it was true. "He might be a bit late, but my uncle says he'll certainly be by before the ceremony starts. It honestly doesn't matter so much anymore though." Zexion shrugged. His father had certainly done enough in just agreeing to what Zexion proposed that one night... The evening of his birthday had indeed brought many surprises, but what beat even the birthday party was the conversation he had with his father. If anything, the only one that seemed to keep asking about the subject was the blond sitting next to Zexion.

"You could just do it for your first year, you know. Just to try it out," Demyx said lightly, casting Zexion an attentive look.

Expecting this, the slate-haired teen chuckled. "I know you're apprehensive for me, but I've made my decision," he insisted. "True, I might start off at a slight disadvantage, but I'll have many more options open to me now by being an undeclared major. And when I stop to honestly think about it, there's really many things I'd like to try out. And with my fast-learning skills, I could fit in in any sort of subject area that I finally decide to major in." He gave Demyx something of a smirk. "I'm confident in my abilities."

"Not knowing what to study, though...," began the blond uncertainly. "Maybe you should at least go to community college for that like me."

Zexion raised an amused brow. "I'd rather make use of the full ride I got from Never Was University. I did work my hardest just to get into it. Anyway, jumping right into something as serious as college in this way - it sounds like something you would do," he pointed out. "So I don't understand why you of all people are trying to stop me on this."

"That's the thing, Zexy," Demyx began to confess. He rubbed the back of his neck and let out a breath. "It is something I'd do, but... Maybe I'm paranoid that you'll regret it. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'll support you if that's really what you want..."

"Then do so," requested Zexion. Could he really blame Demyx for acting like this though? Even if he did expect the blond out of everyone else to take this more nonchalantly, maybe he had underestimated Demyx a bit. It did show how much the blond cared for him, and it was a bit unsettling how calm Zexion himself was with declaring this decision. He supposed a past form of himself would be as equally unsure.

_I'm not uncertain about these things anymore, though. Nervous, yes. Scared, of course. But not uncertain. And that's all the difference there needs to be for me not to stand still or do something against my will_.

"It'd also be nice to be closer to you," mumbled Demyx in embarrassment, looking straight down at his shoes.

Zexion blinked in surprise, even though that had been something he thought about. "We'll only be three hours away. I think it'll be fine, and we'll still be close," he said to reassure the blond. He knew it was something the both of them were upset about, but Zexion pointed out more than once the distance could've been a lot worse. They might not see each other everyday, but at the very least it could be possible to see each other on weekends. It was a subject they vowed to talk about more seriously once their first semesters started. Even if it was one of the downsides to the approach of their lives as college students, Zexion tried to let his calm certainty pass to Demyx when he could.

Zexion offered him a smile, shifting a bit closer to him. "I've been considering Philosophy, like you said. Or maybe Psychology sounds nice, too," he admitted, thinking of Ashe. The visits with his new therapist had been frequent and gradually getting less as the months passed. She wasn't at all like his last therapist, or maybe Zexion wasn't at all like himself from the past. Either way, talking with Ashe had become easier with time, and the visits had become less heavy as time went by. She made him feel light, even when she insisted she wasn't the cause of it.

Well, right now, he was still weighing the options in his mind when it came to what exactly he'd do in Never Was University. The mere freedom to have such options left Zexion feeling invincible somehow. He could do what he wanted and learn what he wished. He was still freshly out of high school, and as cliche as it sounded, he felt like the world was his.

The excitement must've shown on his face, because Demyx was laughing now. "You're blinding me with your optimism there, Mr. Sunshine," he teased, batting at Zexion's tassel. "Looks like I was a good influence on you after all!"

"No, you're still the worst influence that's ever been tossed to me," deadpanned Zexion, face impassive in a second. "That's why I'm not taking any chances and going to my university's orientation right after graduation." Not that he ever really had any kind of usual summer plans in the first place. If there was summer homework to do, he did it all usually within the first week or two. After that it was kind of bore, as much as he would hate to admit it. The Anderson residence might have gotten lighter, but he couldn't picture something like a family vacation happening anytime soon.

Demyx pouted. "Really? Well, I'm gonna be here bored out of my mind without you to mess with," he complained. He leaned back, supporting himself with his elbows - and of course not caring if he got his sleeves dirty.

Zexion rolled his eyes at the blond's drama. "Nice to be informed I'm here for that purpose." Figuring enough had been asked about him, Zexion tilted his head and said, "I'll only be gone for a week. And as I knew it, you're going to be occupied with that band you've joined. Those fellows from the party introduced you to someone, didn't they?"

"Oh, yeah," laughed Demyx happily. "I think they were called Organization XIII? It'll make for interesting times, that's for sure. Although I wonder if I'll be able to do the whole summer job deal if I'm a permanent member."

Oh yes, the slate-haired teen did recall something about part-time lifeguard at the community pool. Zexion didn't really see it as much of a job, but he knew it would be what made Demyx happy. Although it'd be a bit of a lie if he didn't admit he still wished Demyx would do something just along the lines of music. Even if he was just the guitarist, Zexion really did think he'd never tire of the blond's singing. Even these past few months, whenever he could, he'd quietly ask Demyx to sing something for him. It made Zexion smile to hear it.

Within the next few minutes, Demyx's mother had come by with Demyx's change in clothes, and she was none too roundabout in showing her displeasure towards him, even when in the next second she turned to give Zexion a sweet smile and tight hug. She and her husband had certainly...gotten more friendly once Demyx told them that he was in a relationship with the slate-haired teen. Ecstatic, even. Zexion should've known better than to think Demyx's parents would question a homosexual relationship - coincidentally, his own father hadn't seemed to give much protest either.

"He'd probably think you getting with a girl and getting her knocked up would be worst interference ever for your studies," Fuu had teased once.

Well, whatever the reason, Zexion surely appreciated the lack of disapproval, and was maybe even a bit happy about the casual acceptance.

"Are you nervous? Don't be, everything will go just fine!" reassured Iri in an excited twitter, smiling hugely as she walked the two teenagers back inside. She was positively glowing with happiness it seemed. "It's always the proudest moment for a parent to see their child graduate."

"What she means is, they shout 'finally!' when we finally leave the house," corrected Demyx dryly.

"We also throw parties without you," piped his mother in agreement, making Zexion chuckle a bit.

They left her at the auditorium after she hugged each of them (Demyx earning a smack on the back of his head when he began fake sobbing) and wishing Zexion good luck. An announcement had been made minutes before for class to start heading to the stage's backroom, an hour before the actual graduation would start.

After Demyx changed and they made it to where the others were gathering, Tidus came out of the crowd of teenagers and tossed his cap right at Demyx's face. "You bastard!" he shouted. "I was devoured back there! Barely escaped with an inch of my life!"

"Ooh, didja get pictures?" the blond asked the approaching Wakka.

A tap on his shoulder momentarily distracted Zexion from the impending argument, and he found Yuna, Lexaeus, and Rhyme standing next to him. "You pinned back your bangs," Yuna noted with her usual sweet smile. She reached out and adjusted the barrette a bit before nodding in approval. "You look quite handsome indeed, Mr. Salutatorian. Practice your speech, I'm sure? Are you nervous?"

To that, Zexion could only incline his head slightly. It wasn't something he particularly practiced a lot, and neither did he really discuss it. He made enough speeches before that this didn't really seem any different...

Even if his nerves just increased ten-fold at Yuna bringing it up. The brunette seemed to sense it and leaned in to kiss his cheek lightly. "You'll do perfectly, don't you worry," she reassured. "At least you'll get it over with in the beginning."

"Better not let Tidus catch you doing that," advised Rhyme with a giggle. "He'll just start a love-hate relationship with Zexion as well."

Aah, the slate-haired teen really didn't want to think about that either. "You both look lovely," complimented Zexion formally, making the two girls giggle all over again.

Yuna smoothed her gown over herself, stepping a bit awkwardly in her heels. "I think I'll be happy to have these shoes off, though. I haven't worn these since prom."

"Yes, but you danced pretty well in them back then!" Rhyme exclaimed.

"You didn't think it awkward?" asked Yuna uncertainly.

"Better than if you had handed heels over to these two," teased Rhyme, looking over at Lexaeus and Zexion, who looked horrified at being brought into the conversation this way.

And of course at that moment, Demyx had come into the conversation, hugging Zexion from behind. "Who, these two wallflowers? They don't need heels to look petrified on a dance floor," he said. "You guys were hopeless back there."

Blushing, Zexion lightly elbowed the blond off him. "You said you wouldn't bring it up again, you idiot," he grumbled. Prom was, indeed, a vague memory that he never knew if he wanted to recall. Something about the senior prank being a spiked bowl of punch and Zexion having one too many cups might have had something to do with the whole embarrassing affair.

"Can you believe we're done with high school?" mused Rhyme. Holding Lexaeus' hand, she was staring off out the window next to them, something like a content expression on her face, even when her eyes seemed just a little bit sad. All at once, everyone within their little circle mirrored her expression. Even Zexion found himself looking out to the sky, becoming thoughtful.

Standing in the middle of this auditorium in his graduation gown, building full of excited teenagers that only days before had been hurling paper balls and blasting their cellphones, Zexion didn't feel any sort of sadness. To be honest, he was rather relieved to finally have high school behind him. In an odd sort of way, it felt like any other day – was this the normal thing to feel?

The sun was the same, radiating through the window at them and making him sweat a little under his clothes. It was a relatively normal experience, yet at the same time not so. In a weird way, it was like everything was moving too fast, as his friends began to get animated again. Mutely watching Demyx and the others start a new conversation and laughing away, Rhyme making Lexaeus blush and Yuna giggle at something she said, Zexion wondered if this was what nostalgia felt like. Wasn't it only a few months before that he had been sitting in a hospital room? It seemed like a lifetime ago. His injuries had long-since healed, and the scars left on him would mark interesting stories to tell his children one day. In a funny way, he wanted to smile about it all.

"Yo, so party back at my place afterward, remember?" Demyx reminded the others once they were called to their seats. "Someone text Quistis and the others later, alright? I want Zexy and Yu-yu to see them before they take off."

No one other than Rhyme and himself were in the beginning of the alphabet, and so the two made their way together to their respective rows, where the short blond girl took her seat right behind Zexion. He'd sit there until he and the valedictorian were called up to be on stage for the real thing, and he'd be there until he was called up to make the opening speech for the students. He had to admit, having someone he knew near him did calm his mounting nerves a little. Rhyme seemed to know this and gave him a warm smile and wave when he turned around.

"You know," began the slate-haired teen quietly, "I never thanked you."

Rhyme blinked in surprise. "For what?"

"I never knew about the relationship between you and Lexaeus. And even though he considered me a friend, I...never gave him a reason to think I returned the sentiment. Even so, somehow...it makes me...happy to know that whole time, he wasn't alone," Zexion explained. He was doing as best as he could, considering the fact these were never words he thought ever to say. "I am...very glad to know that you were there as well." Rhyme was a good girl, sweet and smart, and exactly the type of person - friend or girlfriend - Zexion thought Lexaeus deserved.

Rhyme giggled softly. "Lexaeus said almost the same thing to Demyx," she said, glancing over to the other section of the auditorium, where both the auburn-haired teen and blond sat near one another.

Zexion widened his eyes, but didn't have time to think over the matter further when they were told to shush down, as the ceremony would be gone over once more before finally commencing. It was a tedious process, and more than once, Zexion caught himself in the middle of drifting thoughts.

He thought about what Rhyme said about Lexaeus, and wondered if the strange warmth in his chest was what friendship was.

He thought about Yuna and Quistis and Roxanne and the others, suddenly realizing that in a short matter of months, he had met these people, and had fun with them, and gotten close to them as he never had with others before.

He thought about his family, and how even though part of it wasn't there, he was no less happy to know that he was still being supported.

He also thought about Never Was, about his new plan, and that maybe he'd experiment with English as well since to this day he wrote in the notebook he got for this birthday, and Demyx would grin every time he did and beg to hear what Zexion wrote.

Ah. And yes, he did think about Demyx Watera, too. Thought about how much of an idiot he was to arrive in jeans, to always make sexual innuendos, to hold his hand in public. Thought about how they both made mistakes, but how it was always made better when Zexion could get calm in an instant when he smelled that familiar scent of citrus and chlorine. Thought about how glad he was to decide to go to Miss Lockhart to tell her he'd start tutoring the blond again, even when he wasn't required to anymore in the next semester.

And - recalling months of smiles, kisses, and simply being together - he thought about how much he loved him.

Yes, Zexion could openly admit that to himself now. There were the times when he'd chuckle fondly in his mind, wondering how in the world he could end up having such affections for someone who was just about his total opposite. They bumped heads a bit too frequently, but Zexion thought he could tell the difference between any old bickering and what he and Demyx did. As a matter of fact, a lot of the one-dimensional things he thought he knew ended up having so many sides to them, and he realized that the more he spent time with the chipper blond.

He glanced over at the other section of students, were Demyx was seated with the other half of the alphabet. Almost instantly, Demyx was looking back at him, and grinned widely, waving energetically. Resisting the urge to throw something him, Zexion stifled a smile and instead gave the blond a stern look. Demyx only mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "I looooooooooove you!" before Zexion rolled his eyes and promptly mouthed back for him to "Pay attention, you idiot."

After the procedure had been gone over for the tiring fifth time, the principal finally seemed satisfied and ushered them out to the stage for the real thing. The noise rose up again immediately, but Zexion was barely giving it any mind. Four years was a long time to get used to tuning his classmates out.

On the other side, there came a greater blast of noise from the mix of talking, cheering, and the background track of "Pomp and Circumstance" playing. It was more overwhelming than Zexion thought it would be, and it reminded him of last Halloween, of the unfamiliar noise and bright lights, surrounded by a crowd of people he didn't know. This time, though, everything was okay, even if he was the one on stage now instead of a certain blond. He was grateful when the noise died down and the principal came up to begin her own speech. He and the valedictorian exchanged nervous glances as they sat before their class and their families. Somewhere out there were his uncle and father, and he'd be getting a kind of support he never thought he had before. He smiled a bit thinking of it.

There was the usual general statements of welcome, praise, and encouragement. There were bursts of applause and as the minutes passed, Zexion felt his palms start getting sweaty. Even though this was probably one of the biggest moments of his life so far, he couldn't help but start feeling so silly and exposed. When he had told Demyx this a few nights before, the blond had ruffled his hair and kissed his forehead.

"Don't worry, Zexy. If you get that nervous, just look for me, alright? You can pretend you're just saying your speech in front of me. It'll be okay."

It'll be okay. Zexion let out a breath. He couldn't remember a time when so many eyes would be on him. He had that old fear from Halloween, that everyone would be able to see into him.

But it would be okay. Demyx said it would.

Zexion chose to believe him. His eyes were the only ones he'd allow himself to care about.

His thoughts became a weird mix to soothe his mounting nerves. There was something he learned back in his biology class that when two different species came together to reproduce, the hybrid offspring that came from it had the potential to be even greater than both species.

But that was a fact.

Facts were all well and good. For the longest time, they brought the greatest comfort to his life, because they never changed. Facts couldn't betray you, not in the same way changing things like humans and emotions could. There were a lot of things he would never be able to forget. The pain of his mother leaving, for one, and the truth that right now, she was not out there in that crowd, and knew nothing of his accomplishments, or what he and Fuu had gone through after she left. The cold air that entered their home after she was gone was another thing.

He _certainly_ wouldn't be able to forget how close to being completely _broken_ they had been, for his father to yell at Fuu, for her to come home in blood and bruises, and for Zexion to barely care - even when the memories terrified him like a nightmare now.

...Even so, Zexion had a greater comfort now, and it wasn't something so straightforward as a fact. No... This that Zexion really had, however, was a _theory_.

In less time than he would've liked, he was being introduced on stage, and there was another deafening burst of clapping. Was he standing? Oh, he was on the podium now, his note cards before him, mic inches from his mouth. Frantically, before the crowd could calm down, he searched out in the crowd for that familiar face, for that soothing smile. But before him was a sea of strangers and black caps.

And then finally. There, illuminated up like the spotlight was Demyx, who he realized with embarrassment was actually standing up and cheering like a complete idiot. Zexion looked at him incredulously, but his nerves were waning, and he even chuckled fondly.

The noise finally came to a lull and Zexion's mind drifted back. He thought over his theory, applying it to himself, and the boy he loved. At the beginning of this year, Zexion thought he and Demyx were too entirely different to have any sort of relationship together. But Demyx had proved him wrong, time and again, became his student, his friend, his boyfriend - but really, if he tried not to let his pride get in the way, Demyx had also been the one to teach him.

So maybe two different people could actually be together, and maybe what came from that closeness could result in something better than when the two were apart. Even when Zexion thought he couldn't love, he fell for Demyx. Even though Demyx hadn't thought there was anything extraordinary about him, Zexion continued to think that there was something more to him.

He didn't know too much about the future, but right then, he thought that being together with Demyx would make him happy, and that, right now, things were indeed slowly getting better. Sooner or later, this pain would be a scar in his heart, leaving their marks as surely as the ones on his skin.

Of course, this wasn't a concrete thing. And as he opened his mouth to speak, looking at a whole crowd but speaking to only one person (and he realized right then how Demyx had felt that night), he knew what he had wasn't fact, but a theory. But it was one he believed in wholeheartedly.

A hybrid theory.

* * *

**Ending A/N**: Blessed God, it is done. It is complete! -falls over-

Wow, I really...am blanking on what to say here. There's still a lot of little things I wanted to include, but if I did that, I'd probably have another chapter completely on my hands -laughs- I hoped I tied up the loose ends nicely enough. I'm really nervous and excited for how this came out. The finality of it is barely reaching me, and that I'll never update this fic again -widens eyes- I know there were certain things some people wanted, like more explicit Zemyx scenes, but I'm hoping you know enough about the fic to know why how that wouldn't work out this round (at least I gave you a shoutout to their..._activities_ with that one innuendo). There are also requests for a continuation, to which I must sadly say _Hybrid Theory_ is at an end and won't continue anymore.

So this fic has come to an end. Four years of work went into it. It's transformed A LOT from the original plans I had when I first made it, but I hope that you enjoyed it all the way, and maybe sensed the growing maturity of it. That's my fervent hope for this story, anyway -smiles a bit-

If you've stuck with me this long, I thank you so much for being here! After I finish multi-chap fics, I like to give a few particular shoutouts. For _Hybrid Theory_, I give thanks to:

**jcdabpaomb** (for being the first reviewer)

**xStillxInxLovex**, **mudkipluvr4ever** and **OurLordDisco** (for being around as long as you have and always giving support)

**cutekawaiikoneko** (for knowing this fic since it was practically conceived and never failing to still be here for this Zemyx baby)

**shadowdolls** (for being an enthusiastic fan and friend)

**CeinSemek** (for staying up until 1am reading this? Thanks for the dedication kjgbjk -insert heart-)

and **luckless-is-me** (for always giving just the best reviews, and understanding the story as well as you do. All my biggest thanks to you, dear)

Quite honestly, I seriously love _every single one of you_ who read and supported the story, whether or not you left reviews, came in the middle, or what have you. The mere fact I had as many wonderful people with such kind comments about this story was enough to make me _infinitely_ happy. And yes, I mean you too. Yes, you! Thank you so much! You've helped make this story all it could be! -hugs you-

Well, my friends - am I worthy of a review?


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